


firework clouds

by emeraldpalace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Canon Compliant, For the most part, Half-Vampires, It's mainly akaashi's first/bokuto's second year, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Pre-Canon, Swearing, Vampires, except for the vampire bits but like. you know, vampire discrimination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21056177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldpalace/pseuds/emeraldpalace
Summary: “So how does this whole vampire thing work?”Akaashi raises an eyebrow.“You have to be more precise than that, Bokuto-san."“Well, y’know, what’s it like? How much from the movies and stuff is true? I mean obviously you don’t sparkle, but like,” he waves around vaguely at Akaashi, and Akaashi, somehow, understands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, my first haikyuu fic in uhhhh 5 years? this fandom has me by the balls again and honestly i'm glad to be back!!
> 
> Big thanks to [emm](https://twitter.com/boqkuto) for editing this chapter!!

Akaashi is six years old when he first realizes that not everyone accepts the fact that drinking blood is just part of his everyday life.

He’s known that not everyone has to - his mother and her family don’t, and neither do most people, in fact. He knows that there was only one other vampire girl in kindergarten last year, and that he’s the only one in his class right now, as far as he can tell (and they can always tell, his father once told him.)

But it had never occurred to him that it was something that anyone could have a problem with.

“Eh, Akaashi, you drink blood?”, Shigeru asks, even though he wasn’t even part of the conversation he was currently having with another one of his classmates, about what they’d had for breakfast that day.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“So you’re a vampire?”

“Yeah.”

“Huuuuh, my papa always says that vampires are bad and just wanna turn everyone else into vampires too!”

“What? That’s dumb,” Haruhi-chan says before Akaashi can say anything himself. Not that he even knows what to say to that - it doesn’t even register to him that Shigeru meant that seriously, at first.

“It’s true! They look all normal, but actually, they just wanna eat all your blood!”

“That’s dumb! Keiji-kun would never do that!”

“Well, how do you know!?”

“How do _ you _ know!?”

“Because my papa is always right, so-!”

A fight breaks out soon afterwards, between Haruhi-chan, Shigeru, and another boy from the class. Akaashi tries to break them up at first, but then one of the boys hits his cheek, and he suddenly becomes very aware of the fact that he’s _ angry _ and _ confused _ and _ why are they lying about me, _ so he hits back. Naturally.

His mother picks him up roughly an hour later from the principal’s office, along with the parents of the other kids involved.

“You know that you shouldn’t fight with others, right, Keiji?” she asks on their walk home.

He nods, but hesitates. “... But they were really mean,” he says.

“They were, but you still shouldn’t fight with them, or you’re really not much better than them.”

He hums and nods again. His hand tenses around hers.

“It’s… not true what they said, right? About people like me, and father?”

“Oh, darling-” she drops down to her knees and embraces him fiercely. “Of course not.”

She squeezes him tighter as he feels the tears well up in his eyes. 

“Of course not.”

* * *

It’s not like Akaashi didn’t know that Bokuto Koutarou, the star of Fukuroudani Academy’s volleyball team, would be here, but it’s still a little stunning to see him up close for several hours, spiking fast and strong and surprisingly accurate balls like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Stunning turns into surprise, maybe confusion even, as Bokuto loudly bemoans every single time he’s blocked or hits an out, acting not unlike a petulant child. The third years that block him laugh, the coach sighs deeply and tells Bokuto to get back to the exercise, and most people simply ignore him.

The surprise later turns into exasperation and exhaustion, because _ What part of this is just ‘a little bit’? _ Shouldn't Bokuto be just as exhausted as he is at this point? He’s just a high schooler too, right? Akaashi had mostly agreed to practice so he could walk home when the sun isn't as high in the sky, but it's already bordering on dusk when he looks out the window.

He still mumbles a ‘_nice kill _’, because it was one, genuinely, but he’s also had enough of them at this point.

“Akashi!”

A tick of irritation. “It’s Akaashi-”, 

“Your tosses are the best!!”

“...Ah,” he says, intelligently. It’s weird, really. He’s heard the words ‘_ nice toss _’ countless times during practice and matches, and he knows that overall, he’s not a bad setter for his age - a pretty good one even. But somehow, the way Bokuto said it, with a bright smile on his face, and with how he seems like a person that couldn’t lie even if he wanted to - it’s a little stunning all over again. 

“Sure,” he continues weakly.

“Could you sound a little more fired up?”, Bokuto pouts. He then looks around the gym suspiciously, like someone might have secretly been hiding somewhere this whole time without them noticing. He leans in close and whispers, for good measure.

“You know, don’t tell Sagara-san, but I honestly prefer your tosses to his already.”

“Eh? But he’s a third year…”

“I know, I know, but he always gets mad at me when I can’t hit something! And he never wants to practice with me either, like how am I supposed to get better if our setter doesn’t practice with me!?” He storms off, walking in circles, abandoning his earlier veneer of secrecy as he nearly starts shouting. “And like, he always blames _ me _ when something goes wrong, like he says that I have to hit from further away from the net to avoid blockers and everything, but maybe I could spike better if he just tossed to me like I want him to! Like you do!!” 

Akaashi feels like a deer in headlights when Bokuto looks back at him with an intense, questioning gaze. “I… see…” It’s true that Bokuto is nothing if not demanding. He’s vocal in his praise as much as he is in his criticism, asking for more, for higher, for closer and faster, and Akaashi can see how it might get annoying to some people, especially coupled with his seemingly boundless energy. But at the same time…

“No, I think you’re right, Bokuto-san,” he says as he starts to pick up the balls lying all around the gym. “A setter’s job is to make it as easy as possible for the spikers to score points, so it’s not unreasonable to ask for tosses that are easier to hit for you-”

“I knew you’d get it!”, Bokuto almost tackles him with his side hug. “You should just become our main setter, Akashi!”

“It’s Akaashi. And Sagara-san is still better than me…”

“Then you just have to practice more, come on, let’s-” He runs off to the ball cart again, and all Akaashi can think is _ not a chance. _

“How about tomorrow?” he asks quickly instead. Bokuto stops in his tracks and looks at him in shock. His first thought is that he might be angry that he doesn’t want to stay for even longer. His second one is ‘_ Ouch’ _ as he is tackled with a full-on hug this time.

“Akas- Akaashi!!”, Bokuto exclaims as he lifts Akaashi up with almost painful enthusiasm.

“B-Bokuto-san-“

He promptly drops Akaashi back on the ground, but still grabs his shoulders to smile brightly at him.

“Tomorrow then!” he says, and Akaashi doesn’t think he’s imagining the wetness around his eyes.

He smiles back lightly. “Tomorrow then.”

* * *

Akaashi kept his promise, and stayed behind to practice the next day, as well as the day after that. The other second-years even stopped by his classroom during lunch to help him come up with excuses not to do it, but he politely declined. He wasn’t lying when he said that it’s a great opportunity to practice with a star player, but if he’s really honest with himself, he’s simply come simply enjoy it as well. Playing with Bokuto has been physically exhausting, yes, but nonetheless _ fun _ in the way that it’s just deeply satisfying to see extraordinary people do extraordinary things - especially when they also have such genuine, infectious enthusiasm for what they do. Akaashi can’t help but feel a little bit of pride at being praised so often as well.

Perhaps that is why he’s nearly forgotten how mentally exhausting Bokuto can be as a teammate.

“I’m trash! I don’t deserve to be the team’s ace if I can’t even get past a single blocker!!”

The third years on the opposing team guffaw openly, which only makes Bokuto shrink more into the ground.

“Look, our wannabe ace already falls into his dejected mode after a block or two!” Sagara mockingly calls from the other side.

It’s a bit of a tradition, Konoha told Akaashi earlier, for there to be a match between the third years and the most promising first-years at the end of the first week of practice. Akaashi was honoured to be counted as part of that group, and he was even more excited when Bokuto joined their team ‘to even the odds’, but now, looking at him crouched on the ground, tears in his eyes as he screams in utmost misery, it’s hard not to think of it as a handicap instead.

“Coach, you don’t need me anymore, I am quitting the team-”

“You will _ not _quit the team, Bokuto-kun,” Coach Yamiji says with the exhaustion of a man who’s said these words more times than he would have liked to.

“But I can’t do _ anything _ anymore! I’m going to bring our school’s entire legacy to an end if I keep playing!”

Akaashi takes a deep breath. Objectively, Bokuto being upset is a pretty bad thing. First and foremost it brings down the morale of the team, and even if it doesn’t, it’s just plain distracting, if not annoying, in the way that Bokuto seems to have an innate need to share his suffering with anyone within earshot.

There has to be _ some _way to make him snap out of it. Bokuto thinks he’s useless without his spikes, which are getting blocked more than usual today - understandably though, the third years did set up their formation specifically to match the currently tallest middle blocker in the club against him, as well as targeting Bokuto with their serves to prevent him from attacking at all.

Wait. Serves. Serves that lead to receives, receives that Bokuto was able to return to him most of the time - he remembers just a few plays ago, the way Bokuto returned a difficult spike in an unexpectedly clean A-pass, _ That’s it _-

“Bokuto-san-”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto suddenly turns to him, the tears free-flowing as he puts one hand on his shoulder and dramatically clenches the other in a fist.

“I’m sorry, but please don’t toss to me anymore, I will only drag you down-”

“Okay.”

Another round of snorting laughter from the other side of the net.

“See? Even your precious little first-year setter doesn’t want to toss to you anymore!” Sagara taunts, and Akaashi, not for the first time, wishes that he was impulsive enough to just tell an upperclassman to _ shut up _ because this is _ not helping _ \- though he supposes that that’s the point.

Bokuto looks at him with something so close to genuine hurt that Akaashi almost panics himself. _ No, damage control, help him, say something- _

“It’s true that your spikes are getting blocked a lot today.” _ Not like that! _ He hastily adds: “Since our senpai are wary of you, and are used to seeing you play by now.” Bokuto sniffs, but the tears have stopped flowing. _ Acknowledging the situation helps _, Akaashi makes sure to remember. Now it’s time to turn it around.

“However, your receives have been very solid today.”

“Eh?” Bokuto blinks at him hesitantly. “Really...?”

“Of course.” They’ve been maybe slightly above average overall, truth be told, but it’s easy to chalk up the few lucky saves to skill rather than, well, luck.

“And you can still run perfectly fine, right?” he adds.

“I… guess…” There’s confused hope blooming in those golden eyes and Akaashi has to try really hard to suppress a triumphant smile. Time to go for the kill.

“You will go into the back row next anyway, and we inexperienced first-years don’t have a great defense yet. I’m sorry, but we will be relying on your support there, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto gasps, hand on his heart, and Akaashi is uncomfortably aware of a couple people whispering as well.

“You’re right!” Bokuto shouts, and his eyes light up with renewed vigour. “What kind of ace would I be if I can’t support my dear underclassmen in their time of need? I’ll be so supporting that we won’t even _ need _ anyone else in the back row, I promise!”

“That’s…” Not what he was going for, exactly, but he’ll take it. “...Really reassuring, Bokuto-san.”

“You can count on me!” He says with a last sniff, followed by overly loud laughter to compensate, and then he skips to the back line and takes on a picture-perfect receiving stance.

There’s still silence. Akaashi glances around and sees that even the people from the neighboring courts gave stopped their practices to watch them. He bows to their coach and apologizes for the interruption, mostly so he doesn’t have to look at anyone else.

“Oh, uh, that’s fine. Please continue, boys.”

They do, and it goes surprisingly well, too. The blow to their attack power is noticeable, but they manage to snag points from the upperclassmen here and there, especially now that Bokuto is really focusing more on providing a solid defense. Not all of his attempts land, and his enthusiasm sometimes sends the ball right over to the opposite side of the net, but he’s diligent and energetic as ever, running after every ball he can and returning them to Akaashi more often than not. Akaashi makes sure to say ‘Nice receive!’ and ‘Nice save!’ louder than he usually would, but Bokuto doesn’t seem to be falling into a slump again, to everyone’s relief.

Still, by the time Bokuto is about to switch into the front line again, it gets hard not to notice him getting antsier and antsier, taking steps and then hastily backtracking, and watching Akaashi’s tosses with an obvious jealous focus.

They get lucky with a block that goes out of bounds, and Bokuto all but hops up front with excess energy, but it seems that the third-years are still mostly focusing on everyone else. _ Perfect _.

They get in a nice serve that puts the attackers in disarray, and they get an easy chance ball over the net.

“Bokuto-san!”

Bokuto whips his head around to Akaashi and breaks out in a large grin as he jumps for it. Then Akaashi sees the smile break and Bokuto hesitates on the swing, and his fingertips just barely manage to graze the ball. Akaashi breathes a small sigh when it lands just behind the blocker, not even close to Sagara’s hand diving for the receive.

“Nice feint,” Akaashi says.

“Feint? I-I mean, yeah! That was a great feint, that I planned from the very beginning-” He didn’t, and Akaashi thinks that Bokuto knows that everyone knows that too, but it’s fine. It’s worth the satisfaction of seeing the third-years’ lightly aggravated faces at Bokuto’s bright, proud laugh.

* * *

“Akaashi-kun, a word?” the coach asks him just as the team is about to head for the locker room.

Bokuto inclines his head in question, and Akaashi shakes his in dismissal. He’d said that he couldn’t practice late today anyway.

“Yes?” He asks once everyone is out of earshot. He’d been wondering when _ this _ conversation would happen.

“Good work today.” Coach Yamiji says with a smile and a pat on his shoulder.

Akaashi bows lightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re a talented setter, so I’m glad you followed our school’s invitation to the team. You even seem to be handling Bokuto-kun very well!” he continues with a light chuckle.

“I… uhm, thank you,” Akaashi says again, uncertain. “I’m glad I joined this school,” he adds, just to fill the silence a little bit.

“I see. So, just to confirm, you have no intention of dropping the volleyball club?”

Ah, there it is.

“Not at all,” he confirms.

“Good, good,” the coach nods seemingly to himself, and then sighs.

“So, as your club supervisor, I have to compile the list of all club members by Monday. I’m sure you know, but that also means I have to inform the parents of all members about your… condition.”

Akaashi nods. He’s glad that at least Coach Yamiji is getting straight to the point, because he remembers that three years earlier, his middle school coach spent 5 minutes tiptoeing around the topic, then 10 minutes talking about the rules surrounding vampires in clubs and apologizing for the inconvenience, and then another 5 minutes reiterating all the ways that Akaashi can and can’t eat during school hours, before even 12-year-old Akaashi had to cut him off and say that he _ knows _. He knows probably better than any teacher what will and won’t get him kicked out of school.

Yamiji clears his throat. “Well, I’ll be sending out the emails tonight, but I suggest that you inform your teammates yourself.”

He nods again. A part of him wanted to do that all week, just to get it out of the way, but there wasn’t really any opportunity to slip it into the conversation, and anything else would just be awkward and uncomfortable for everyone involved.

Everyone is talking animatedly in different groups once Akaashi steps back into the locker room. For a moment he thinks that maybe no one will even pay attention to his late return, that he’ll have to find some terribly attention-gathering way to say ‘_by the way, I eat blood for a living _ ’, or have to not say it at all and wait anxiously until the next practice to see if anyone’s parents pulled their child out of the club _ again _ \- until Bokuto perks up and yells loudly across the room.

“Hey Akaashi, what did the coach want from you?”

Most heads turn his way, and he supposes that this will do too. He turns back to his locker casually, busying himself with shrugging off his shirt and steeling his voice into the most neutral tone he can manage.

“He told me to tell everyone that I’m a vampire.”

There’s a surprised silence for maybe a second, but it feels long enough for Akaashi to be sincerely startled by the sound of Bokuto’s exclamation.

“Oh my god, really!? That’s so cool!!”

The words catch up to him after maybe another second.

“...Really?!

“Yeah! I’ve never met one before!”

“Wait, really?” Komi interjects. “Never?”

“Nope!”

“Wasn’t there anyone in your middle school? We had a bunch at mine,” Sarukui comments.

Bokuto puts a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “I mean, maybe? I don’t think I knew anyone though.”

Akaashi smiles lightly at his genuine confusion. “You’ve probably met quite a few but just never realized it.”

“Huh, you’re probably right! I mean, I had no idea about you either!” Bokuto says with wonder, before furrowing his eyes in thought again.

“Wait, but I’ve seen you outside in the sun? Isn’t that like, really bad?!” He almost shouts and eyes Akaashi’s bare torso with concern, looking for any signs of apparent damage.

“Ah, I’m usually fine with sunscreen,” Akaashi tries to reassure him as he quickly shrugs on his uniform shirt.

“Oh yeah, I have an aunt in Kyushu who’s a vampire,” Konoha pipes up. “Though I’ve heard that she mostly goes out at night anyway.”

“Eh!? Are you a vampire too then?”, Bokuto asks.

“Oh, nah, she had a vampire boyfriend at some point and apparently they wanted to be ‘together forever’,” the blond says by way of explanation, “But then they broke up, and now she owns a love hotel in Fukuoka.”

“Ooh, a love hotel? Think you could get us in?” Sarukui asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I’ve met her like, _ twice_,” Konoha deadpans, and the conversation soon moves on to different, non-vampiric topics, and no one seems to be paying attention to Akaashi anymore. The setter almost sighs in relief.

It’s the first time that Akaashi gets to walk to the nearest train station with most of the club, parting ways with them since they all need to take different lines, but he finds to his surprise that he and Konoha take the same one, the second year getting off two stations before him.

“Hey,” Konoha suddenly starts. “If anyone in school is giving you shit about, y’know... Send them to me, alright?”

“Uhm,” Akaashi certainly wasn’t expecting that. “...Thanks, but that’s really not necessary, Konoha-san.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, scratching the back of his neck. “I know how some people are, and it can really suck. I told you about my aunt, right? My grandma still refuses to talk to her, and she’s said some really shitty things about her on family reunions too.”

He looks at Akaashi with a determined sort of seriousness, although it quickly slips when he speaks again. “So, just- If there’s anything I can do for you, then don’t be afraid to ask, yeah? I’m sure the rest of the team has your back too.” He emphasizes with a clap on Akaashi’s shoulder.

“I’m…” Akaashi looks to the side, grabbing his bag tighter. He certainly doesn’t _ want _ anyone to go out of his way for him, it’s just unnecessary, he doesn’t _ need _ it, but he also can’t deny the warm tightness in his chest that threatens to crawl up his face, even if it takes a lot for him to blush under normal circumstances.

“...Thank you, Konoha-san,” is what he settles on finally.

Konoha grins at him. “Anytime, man.”

* * *

“Hey, Akaashi?” Bokuto asks him next week as they’re walking to the train station after another late practice.

“Yes?”

“So how does this whole vampire thing work?”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow.

“You have to be more precise than that, Bokuto-san."

“Well, y’know, what’s it like? How much from the movies and stuff is true? I mean obviously you don’t sparkle, but like,” he waves around vaguely at Akaashi, and Akaashi, somehow, understands. He doesn’t know a single vampire, himself included, that likes any sort of popular vampire media.

“It’s largely exaggerated, really. I need to drink blood and I’m sensitive to the sun and I have to avoid touching certain things. That’s about it.”

Bokuto, for some reason, ‘_oooh _’s with curiosity.

“So how often do you have to drink blood?”

“About once or twice a week, but it depends on the person. Usually older and pure-blooded ones have to drink more to stay alive.”

“Pure-blooded…?”

“Ah, I’m only half vampire. My mother is human.”

Bokuto’s eyes light up. “Ooh, cool! So how’s that different from being a regular one?”

“Usually I’m just less sensitive to things. I can stay out in the sun for a bit, and garlic will give me an upset stomach, but I won’t die from it.”

“Wait, so the garlic thing is true!?”

“Sadly, yes. Vampires can’t break down the allicin-”

“What about silver?”

“Gives me a rash.”

“Stake to the heart!?”

Akaashi looks at him blankly.

“I think anyone would die from a stake to the heart, Bokuto-san.”

“But is that the _ only _ way to kill you?”

“I’m sure decapitation would work just fine, if you want to try it out.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto whines at his teasing. “You know what I mean! Are you like, immortal, otherwise?”

Akaashi turns away. “Honestly… no one knows for sure.”

“Eh? Why?”

“It’s not like there are any studies done on this, since people had us rather dead than alive for most of history,” he says bitterly and immediately regrets it once he sees Bokuto gape in shock. “...And most older vampires either change their identities or completely leave society without a trace. So we don’t have much to go on other than legends ourselves.”

“_ Shit_, that sucks,” Bokuto says and pats Akaashi’s back with sympathy. “...Do you at least have like, any cool powers?”

“...Like what?”

“I don’t know, like super strength? Or hypnotizing people!” he jumps in front of Akaashi and wiggles his fingers like deeply looking him in the eyes with comical concentration. Akaashi smiles lightly, when suddenly Bokuto’s face lights up with excitement once more.

“Can you turn into a bat!?”

Akaashi chuckles lightly.

“No, I can’t turn into a bat, but I do get an energy boost whenever I drink blood. It’s why we all get our blood tested before official matches. I’ve also heard that some older vampires can put others under a thrall, but I’ve never seen it myself…”

Bokuto’s eyes widen in realization. “Ooh, right! I knew it was something to do with vampires, but I wasn’t sure why, since you’re allowed to play and all.”

“Well, we couldn’t up until… 20 years ago, or so?”

“What!? You couldn’t play volleyball!?” Bokuto exclaims.

“We couldn’t play any sport in an official setting.”

“But that’s so dumb! If you can play well, then what’s the issue?”

“Well, I can see how it could be an unfair advantage to human players-”

“But life isn’t fair! It’s not like we ban really tall or strong players because they have an ‘_ unfair advantage _’, right?”

“Some people just decided that drinking blood counts as doping for vampires,” Akaashi sighs. “At least I can play at all, and testing everyone’s blood is probably the most elegant solution we can get for now.”

Bokuto pouts at him, and then throws him hands behind his head in defeat.

“Man, being a vampire actually _ sucks! _You can’t eat before tournaments, or be outside, or-”

A sudden laugh breaks out of Akaashi. Bokuto gapes at him, but Akaashi can’t seem to stop either - he’s not sure what it is about that declaration that’s so hilarious to him, but every time he thinks that he can stop, another wave of laughter washes over him.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto asks slowly, something like concern on his weirdly red face.

“S-sorry,” he finally manages to get out, but still smiling like he hasn’t in quite some time. “But you’re right, Bokuto-san. It really does suck.”

Bokuto looks at him, wide-eyed for another second before mirroring his smile and throwing a comforting arm around his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/emeraIdpalace) where i shitpost a lot, and do leave a kudos/comment, i'd love to hear your thoughts!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait, if Akaashi is a babysitter and a setter … Does that make him a baby-setter!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter summary is one of my favourite puns I've ever come up with, however! 
> 
> WARNING: There is a scene where a character throws up and descriptions of a clearly distraught mindset, If these things upset you, you can skip from the first "Shit." to "The door opens again"

“Sagara-san, do you want to practice-“

“No,” Akaashi hears the third-year reply not two minutes after he had declined to stay late with Bokuto himself.

“C’mon, please? We never practice together!” The spiker whines.

“I have stuff to do. Why don’t you go bother Akaashi instead?” 

“He can’t stay today-”

“So I’m just a replacement? That’s pretty heartless of you, huh, Bokuto,” Sagara mocks.

“That’s not it!” Bokuto exclaims. “I wanna practice with you too! I mean, there are still times when we’re not really on the same page, y’know?”

“Maybe if you didn’t go off and do your own thing all the time, we _ could _ be on the same page.”

“Well, maybe if you could _ trust _ me sometimes, then-”

“Now, now,” their captain, Kimura, walks up to the two, whose conversation has gotten louder and louder. He sighs with the depth of probably not breaking them up for the first, or the last time, but his voice is still stern and yet kind when he continues.

“Sagara, don’t pick fights, and Bokuto, you’ve been staying behind pretty often lately - make sure you don’t hurt yourself one of these days.”

The troublemakers both huff in reluctant defeat, since Kimura, Akaashi has come to realize, is overall very nice but still has a certain kind of quiet authority that you can’t refuse when you’re at the receiving end of it. Sagara moves towards the exit of the gym, while Bokuto slinks back to Akaashi, Komi, and Washio, who are actually supposed to finish cleaning up, rather than listening in on their little spat.

Bokuto plants himself into a corner of the equipment room and pouts into his pulled up knees. 

“C’mon, what else did you expect?” Komi says teasingly. “You’re better off not wasting your time on him.”

“But I wanna practice!” Bokuto whines. “The Interhigh is right around the corner, y’know!”

“It’s still a couple of months off.”

“That’s gonna go by super fast! And what if today we could’ve come up with a really good technique that could win us nationals, but we’ll never know it now because we won’t practice together!”

“So you think that we can’t win nationals?” Akaashi asks, and Bokuto flinches.

“Well… We can… We definitely can! But… It could be easier…” He murmurs and looks down at his lap. “... I just want us to be a good team, since we’re in the starting lineup and all.”

Akaashi looks at the other two second-years, Washio looking at Bokuto with a sad sort of understanding, while Komi smiles at Akaashi and nods his head towards Bokuto, expectation in his eyes. He sighs and kneels down next to the crouching ace.

“Would you like to practice a little later than usual tomorrow? I know I’m not as good as Sagara-san, but practicing with you has already made me improve a lot.”

Bokuto slowly turns his head so he can look at Akaashi with one eye. Akaashi hopes that he can tell that he’s not even exaggerating. He allows himself a slight smile.

“Maybe we can try to come up with an awesome game-changing technique too.”

Bokuto lifts his head and looks at Akaashi with something like awe - before jumping up and pulling Akaashi into a hug. 

“Akaashi! You’re always so nice!” He exclaims, his usual blinding smile back on his face, so Akaashi doesn’t feel bad about lightly pushing him away. 

“I’m just telling the truth, Bokuto-san.”

“Really?” Bokuto preens. “Really?”

“Of course.” 

“Aw, well, if you _ say _ so-”

“A Bokuto-whisperer,” Washio suddenly says, which makes Komi break out in laughter.

“More like his babysitter!”

“Hey! That makes me sound like a baby!”

“‘Cause you are one!”

“I’m older than you!” Bokuto cries out. “Besides, I’m a cool ace! And Akaashi is just being a good supportive setter!” He then pauses, suddenly contemplative.

“Wait, if Akaashi is a babysitter and a setter … Does that make him a baby-setter!?”

Komi laughs again, and even Washio can’t suppress a small smile. 

“That just sounds like you’re calling _ me _ a baby, Bokuto-san.”

“Well, you _ are _ still a first-year,” he replies cheekily, and moves to ruffle Akaashi’s hair, “Our awesome baby first-year setter!”

“That just means that you’re even bigger baby, since you’re being babysat by once,” Komi comments, and Bokuto thankfully moves away to get the libero in a headlock, laughing brightly enough for Akaashi to ignore that kind of slander.

* * *

“Ugh, I’m so hungryyy,” Bokuto whines. Again.

“Bokuto-san, you were the one who insisted to practice this late.” He’d apparently taken Akaashi very seriously when he said that they can come up with a cool new technique for nationals - though they haven’t been able to come up with anything that was humanly possible, other than just refining Bokuto’s already stellar crosses.

“I _ know_, but I’m still hungry! Don’t you have any snacks with you?”

He looks at Akaashi with such exaggerated puppy eyes that he’d normally refuse to give into his demand on principle, but Akaashi is also tired and wants to change as fast as possible, which means distracting Bokuto - so he sighs in defeat.

“I doubt it, but you can check in my bag,” he relents and pushes said bag in Bokuto’s direction.

“Aw, Akaashi, you’re the best!”

Akaashi returns to his locker while Bokuto shamelessly rummages through his things for a moment.

“Oh, fruit juice!”

“... Fruit juice?” Akaashi has a bad feeling. He doesn’t remember a single time he carried anything like that, so he looks up just in time to see Bokuto unscrewing the cap of one of his opaque silvery blood bags.

“Bokuto-san, that’s not-!” he tries to say but Bokuto has already taken a sip from it, face tightening at the taste.

“Bleh! Akaashi, I think this is expired, it tastes almost like-“

Akaashi is not sure if it’s his words finally catching up, the undoubtedly panicked look he has in his face, or Bokuto’s own thought process finalizing, but the realization immediately dawns on the ace’s face and he drops the bag with a scream.

Several sensations hit Akaashi at once. The prominent smell of blood in his nose, followed immediately by a wet splash at his ankles. A vague tug in his brain and stomach as his eyes see the contrast of the red on the light gray tiles on the floor. Then, Bokuto’s voice again.

“T-t-thats b-blood!”

“Yes, please calm-“

“That’s blood! Oh my god, I just drank blood-“

_ It’s fine, I do it all the time_, Akaashi almost wants to quip for a second, when he suddenly remembers Bokuto’s weakness No.15: _ He’s incredibly squeamish. _

_ Shit_.

Bokuto seems to think the same as his gaze drops to the floor, the open bag still spilling more red between their feet.

He runs to the sink and retches. The painfully acidic smell assaults Akaashi’s nostrils, but it does nothing to keep his fangs from extending as a reaction to the smell of blood spreading through the whole room. 

He moves towards Bokuto, carefully avoiding as much of the blood as he can, wincing both at the intensifying smell of vomit and the sight of bright red footprints following the other boy to the sinks.

“Bokuto-san, are you okay?” Akaashi quickly asks.

“I, ugh,” he says with with a groan, gripping the sink with one arm as he turns around to Akaashi again, and then starts screaming once again.

“You- Your-,” he starts again, pointing at Akaashi’s teeth, when seemingly another realization hits him.

“Oh my god, I drank blood, am I gonna be a vampire too!?”

“No you won’t, that’s not how-“

“But you drink blood, that was your blood, and, and-“

“Bokuto-san, would you _ please _ calm down-“

The door to the locker room slams open.

“Just what is this commotion about-!?”

They all freeze. Akaashi and Bokuto look at their coach with wide eyes, who himself is focused on the bloodbath between them, before his eyes snap up to the two boys.

_ Oh no_, Akaashi realizes, _ no, no, no_, there’s so much blood, 200ml have never seemed that much to him, but it’s spread almost from one end of the locker room to the other, running along the lines between tiles, and then Akaashi realizes how _ they _ must look, a vampire with his fangs out, a barely coherent human next to him-

“Bokuto-kun, come here!” the teacher orders but doesn’t wait before walking over and dragging Bokuto by the arm, the second-year all but stumbling after him with a last lost look at Akaashi. Coach Yamiji looks at him too, with an unreadable, stern expression, and then places a protective arm around Bokuto’s shoulders because- because _ of course _he does. They disappear with another slam of the door, and Akaashi is startled into moving.

It’s probably a good thing that he didn’t try to follow, he reasons, tries to ground himself, and moves to the supply closet at the end of the row of lockers, but it’s closed, _ shit _ , so he moves to the tissues next to the sinks and grabs a handful, dropping to he knees to soak up as much as he can as fast as he can. They turn into wet red-brown lumps soon enough and he finds his hands just as stained when he wants to throw them away, _ shit, shit, shit_, and he takes another bunch and scrubs the floor with them, and the blood barely seems to disappear, just spread differently in burning red streaks and the smell is only getting worse, how will he even mask the smell-

Faintly, Akaashi does register some things - his own laboured breathing through his mouth, muffled shouting that maybe, maybe, sounds a bit like Bokuto, and his own tears running down his face, but he can’t stop to wipe them away because the blood comes first. His nose still burns from the smell of vomit, but even that can’t distract him from the all-encompassing metallic sting that he has to get rid off no matter what - maybe, if it’s gone, it won’t look like Akaashi just bit Bokuto - who is he kidding, the coach saw them clear as day, it absolutely looks like Akaashi bit a fellow teammate while they were alone after hours and he’ll definitely be tried for assault and he will never be able to set for Bokuto again-

The door opens again and Akaashi looks up from the ground for the first time. Coach Yamiji regards him with the same unreadable gaze again, and Akaashi barely contains himself from begging _ Please don’t throw me out of the team_.

“I-is Bokuto-san alright?” he asks instead.

“... Yes. I’ve sent him home.”

Akaashi nods, suppressing another onslaught of tears, not very successfully.

“He’s explained the situation to me,” the coach continues with a sigh. “Normally I would ask him to clean up the mess instead, but…”

He nods again in understanding. More screaming and throwing up would probably only make things worse for both of them. 

“I’ve also asked him to say that he simply had an upset stomach, and not mention anything about… this, if he can help it.”

Akaashi’s eyes widen.

“Do you mean…?” he dares to hope.

“I would normally have to report any… blood-related incidents to the school, but considering the circumstances…” He shakes his head with a disbelieving smile, the one he often wears when it comes to Bokuto. “I will pretend that I didn’t see anything, provided that I also don’t see anything amiss in the morning before practice.”

Akaashi nods again, and keeps his head down.

“Understood.”

“...I’m sorry that I’m having you clean up Bokuto-kun’s mess, but I’m already late to a meeting, and-“

He doesn’t realize that he wants to laugh until he actually does it, even if comes out uncomfortably wet and hoarse. “It’s alright. It’s not too different from the usual, isn’t it?”

Yamiji hesitates, but chuckles lightly, “I suppose that’s true. Well then-“

“A-actually-“

The coach turns back to him with a questioning hum.

“Could you, uhm, open the supply closet, please?”

He fishes in his pocket for a second and takes out a large wad of keys, and somehow immediately finds a specific one that he holds as he hands the entire ring to Akaashi.

“Just bring it back at practice, alright?”

Akaashi takes the keys and clutches them close to his chest, the sheer relief crashing down on him all at once.

“T-thank you,” he swallows another sob and bows as deeply as he can manage. “Thank you so much!”

The coach gives him an awkward smile and a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

“Just don’t stay up too late, alright?”

* * *

Akaashi feels like he’s deeply ungrateful for feeling like shit the next morning, considering everything could’ve gone much, _ much _worse, but the fact of the matter is that he does, in fact, feel like shit. At least physically.

He’d stayed up much later than usual, scrubbing the floor with bleach until his hands and nose felt raw, and despite his best efforts he’d started crying again when he got home, explaining the situation until his father calmly made him accept that he’d done everything he could and his coach seemed kind enough to want to help him, too. His mother declared that she would personally take it up with him if he didn’t, before pushing two melatonin pills in Keiji’s hand and telling him to sleep it off. He thinks the exhaustion got to him first, but he appreciated it anyway.

His headache still hasn’t subsided by the time he’s on one of the first trains in the morning, and he’s sure that waking up an hour and a half earlier than usual didn’t help - he’d even considered skipping practice as a whole, but he has to return the keys and more importantly, go over the grounds once more.

He arrives even earlier than expected, having avoided the usual morning commuter rush, but that only gives him more time to thoroughly look around the area of the changing rooms, see if he’s missed anything in the darkness of the night, like dropped tissues or bloody footprints - 

He barely registers the familiar shout of ‘_Akaashi! _’ before he’s painfully tackled to the ground from behind. He twists around, half on Bokuto’s arms, who is all but wailing on top of him.

“B-bokuto-san? What are you doing here?”

“W-well, I couldn’t sleep all night because of you,” he sniffs and Akaashi feels a pang of guilt, “And I didn’t wanna just sit around and do nothing, and I figured you’d be here anyway-” Bokuto somehow manages to gesticulate while still lying on top of Akaashi, which has the unfortunate side effect of an elbow digging itself into his ribcage.

“Oh, crap, sorry!” Bokuto apologizes once he sees Akaashi wince, and hurriedly hauls both of them up to their feet again - Akaashi has to steady himself on his chest for a moment.

“I’m, uhm,” he quickly takes a step back and looks away. “Thanks, Bokuto-san…”

“Akaashi.” His head snaps up again and Bokuto looks at him with sad, furrowed eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

His voice is so full of sincere worry that Akaashi can’t help but avert his gaze yet again. 

“I… I’ll be fine. Coach said that he won’t say anything as long as I clean everything up, and-”

“Oh, thank God!!”

Bokuto throws his arm around Akaashi once more, giving him a firm squeeze before pulling back, but still keeping his hands on Akaashi’s shoulders.

“I mean, I would’ve kept my promise, because it wouldn’t be fair for you to get thrown off the team, but I’m so glad I don’t have to quit too-”

“_What_?”

“Well, I told coach everything and I said that if he pulled you off the team then I would leave too, since it was my fault and all!”

“Bokuto-san, you really didn’t have to-”

“But I did!” he interrupts Akaashi louder than either of them expected, judging by Bokuto’s self-conscious glance around them.

“It was my fault for freaking out on you like that!” he continues, a little quieter but no less animated. “It really wouldn’t have been fair if you’d been punished and I wasn’t, especially when I was the one who dropped the, the-”

“The blood bag.”

“Yeah, that!” Akaashi sees the hesitation in Bokuto, that he probably doesn’t want to remember the experience either, but he’s trying to take responsibility for it anyway, and that makes something warm and fuzzy bloom in Akaashi’s chest.

“Bokuto-san,” he says calmly and gently pries Bokuto’s grip off his arms. It’s not that it was unpleasant, but something about that solid warmth still felt like - too much.

“It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I should’ve been more careful with how I store my-”

“Akaashi, shut up!” He would’ve made a confused sound if Bokuto’s hand wasn’t clasped around his mouth.

“Stop putting all the blame on yourself! You even cleaned up everything for me, so I don’t want to hear a single apology from you, okay!?”

Akaashi nods and slowly retracts Bokuto’s hand from his face.

“Okay. I won’t apologize, if you don’t either.”

“But-”

“No.” Akaashi puts up his finger, not quite close enough to touch Bokuto’s lips, but close enough to feel his sharp exhale.

“It was an unlucky accident, but it all went well, and one else needs to _ ever _ know that it happened.” He makes sure to emphasize the last part with a firm look.

Bokuto grins at him. “Deal,” he says and pulls Akaashi’s hand into a solid handshake. He continues, “I didn’t tell anyone about that, by the way. Not even my mom.”

Akaashi’s eyes widen, because as far as he knows, Bokuto is _ very _ close with his mother.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean Coach told me not to, since it could put you in jeopardy, but I don’t think she really believed me - ,” Bokuto stops himself, looking thoughtful. “... Did I use jeopardy correctly?”

Akaashi chuckles with surprise.

“Yes, you did.”

Bokuto smiles in reply, rivaling the morning sun rising up behind him.

“Hey, wanna go practice now?” he suddenly asks.

“Actually, I wanted to check if I missed anything last night, if that’s okay…?”

“Yeah, of course!” Bokuto agrees surprisingly willingly. “I’ll help you!”

“Are you sure you won’t throw up again?” Akaashi asks teasingly, but though not without a hint of real concern.

“I-I’m fine! You probably took care of it all anyway!”

“Yes, since I’m always cleaning up your messes.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto shouts indignantly, but then he throws an arm around him with a laugh. “You know what? You’re right, what would I do without you?” 

Probably not get into that kind of mess in the first place, but Akaashi doesn’t mention that.

He makes them look around the locker room twice before he lets Bokuto drag him off to start practicing already. The others trickle in slowly as well, some raising their eyebrows at them already going at proper spikes and sets, but otherwise not asking for how long they’ve already been there. Akaashi even manages to discreetly return the keys to coach Yamiji, who tells him not to push himself today, and he and Bokuto work as well during practice as ever.

He still feels tired and his headache has become an annoying thumping that he becomes uncomfortably aware of every couple of minutes, and sometimes, when he loses focus for a second, memories flood his mind instead - grey squares bordered by red, what he can only assume was apprehension, if not fear on his Coach’s face, Bokuto yelling “_Am I gonna be a vampire too!? _ ” - he especially tries not to think about the last one. It undoubtedly stings, but it’s a reasonable fear too - barely anyone would voluntarily want _ this _. 

Still, he manages, for the most part. It helps that Bokuto is in surprisingly great form too, considering he probably had to wake up as early as Akaashi.

“Hey,” Sarukui sits down next to him during a break. “Did something happen between you and Bokuto?”

A cold shiver runs down Akaashi’s spine.

“Uhm, no? Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, he’s just been really clingy towards you today.”

“... You think so?”

“Duh, you guys have been practicing together all morning, and he’s constantly asking for your opinion. Even more than usual.”

Akaashi is not sure what to say. He hasn’t noticed Bokuto being particularly clingy, but he did often turn to Akaashi during sets and ask _ ‘Didja see that? How was that??’ _but Akaashi chalked that up to Bokuto’s good form more than anything. Speaking of him-

“Hey, Akaashi! Want some water?” Bokuto asks while running up to them, spare bottle in hand.

“Ah, no thanks.”

“You sure? _ Really _ sure?” He wiggles the bottle in front of Akaashi’s face.

“Yes, Bokuto-san.”

“Any reason you’re being so caring today, Bokuto?” Sarukui asks with a teasing lilt.

“Huh? I mean, Akaashi’s not feeling well, so obviously I’m gonna look out for him!”

“Oh, what’s wrong?”, Sarukui turns to Akaashi with genuine concern.

“Uhm, I’m fine, don’t worry about it-”

“Nope!” Bokuto exclaims. “You’re like, really tired, right? And you have a stomach ache or something?”

“It’s just a slight headache…”

“Oh, so that’s what it was!” Bokuto hits his fist with his hand like something suddenly made sense to him. “Well, I’m picking up your slack today, but make sure to get better soon, yeah?”

Akaashi is still a little too stunned to give him a reply, but Bokuto doesn’t even wait for one as he’s called over by the coach.

Sarukui releases a small chuckle. “Bokuto’s surprisingly perceptive sometimes, isn’t he?” he says knowingly. Akaashi nods as he still watches Bokuto enthusiastically nod along to whatever coach is saying.

“Yeah,” he belatedly replies. His throat feels dry. 

* * *

He’s excited for the training camp. Apprehensive, even slightly anxious, but still excited. His middle school volleyball club wasn’t one to slack off, sure, but no one particularly cared enough about the sport to go to the extent of having an entire training camp for it - so this is all new to him.

_ "There’ll be a training camp?” _, he remembers asking when Bokuto-san first mentioned it.

He laughed like Akaashi had just said an incredibly silly thing.

_ “Of course we have training camps, Akaashi! We’re a powerhouse school after all!” _

_ “Right. Of course.” _ Akaashi had replied, because it was silly, wasn’t it? But he still doesn’t quite grasp the concept of them being a strong, _ important_, school, until he steps into the bus, _ their_, the volleyball club’s, bus, to go train with the other schools of the Fukuroudani Group.

Or rather, it’s not that he didn’t realize it, because he knew very well of the school’s impressive track record in the championships, especially in the last couple of years - but it’s taken him until now to truly feel like he’s _ part _ of that.

It should have been obvious, with him being put in the first string, receiving his official jersey with the number 13, his parents receiving the letter to consent to the training camp, the hours of packing and double- and triple-checking that he has his clothes and his sunscreen and an extra supply of blood to last him for the week - but somehow it’s Bokuto pulling him into the seat next to him at the very back of the bus that makes him realize that he truly _ belongs _here, in this time and place, with these people next to him. 

He barely manages to contain the constant smile that’s threatening to show up on his face.

They arrive at Ubugawa pretty quickly, though there’s a bit of dawdling as another bus, a nondescript one, pulls into the driveway just in front of them, although Bokuto leaps out of his seat and climbs over Washio’s lap a couple rows up front in order to wave at whoever is inside.

“That’s Nekoma!” He immediately yells over to Akaashi. “They’re getting _ super _strong this year! Obviously not as strong as us, but-”

“Didn’t Yaku receive, like, _ all _ your spikes last year?” Komi asks teasingly.

“Hey, not _ all _ of them!”

“And Kuroo blocked you pretty often too-”

Bokuto huffs and pretends to ignore his fellow second-years for the rest of the way, but immediately bolts out of the bus when the doors open. Akaashi follows soon after and he already sees Bokuto hanging from the back of a tall guy in a red jacket and cap on the other side of the parking lot.

Something inside him drops. A sour note fills the air and he instinctively feels like creeping back into the bus to avoid confrontation, while another part watches Bokuto _ still _hugging the vampire and Akaashi can’t help but notice the way that the black-haired guy barely would have to lean down to Bokuto’s painfully exposed neck-

Golden eyes suddenly snap up to him and Akaashi quickly turns around to get his bag from the bus, subconsciously staying behind his taller teammates.

He feels bad less than a minute later, because he really had no reason to freeze up like that, and especially to worry about Bokuto’s safety for whatever split second - the guy from Nekoma is just a normal high school student like him, pure-blooded vampire or not.

Still, he tries to avoid him as much as he can, which isn’t all that hard, at first. The team moves their bags to their assigned room, they get a small tour of the facilities they’ll be using, and then they’re already being ushered into the gym to start on some drills until the last school arrives.

“Hey, you,” a deep voice calls out to him when he’s practicing serves, and Akaashi feels something inside him shrink into itself, before he even looks up to the voice. The vampire with abnormally unruly hair smirks at him from the other side of the net.

“Do you mind if I receive your serves for a bit?”

Akaashi shakes his head.

“Cool, thanks!” He waves and then positions himself neatly into the half of the field opposite Akaashi’s.

They don’t say anything after that, and Akaashi doesn’t particularly want to - he’s still on edge, but he tries to focus on warming up, and maybe even tries to overcompensate his instincts by hitting his serves in places the other guy can’t easily reach. He doesn’t succeed much, because his aim is safe, but far from precise, and it’s clear that the vampire is so good at receiving that it seems odd that he’d want to practice with Akaashi of all people - he remembers Bokuto whining about Nekoma’s receives even from players that aren’t liberos, and Akaashi can imagine how annoying the other guy could be in an actual match.

His irritation shows when he hits the ball just a little stronger than usual, and Akaashi thinks it’s an out - as does the vampire. He cleanly moves out of the way of the ball, no wasted movement at all, and Akaashi can’t help but smile a little when it lands just in front of the back line. The guy clicks his tongue and looks at him with excited yet petty competitiveness. It’s a familiar feeling, an anchor point, and Akaashi thinks they come to an understanding.

A couple of minutes later the Shinzen students finally arrive and the coaches call for everyone to warm up some more before the practice matches start, and the other boy comes up to Akaashi with a clap on the back,

“Hey, you’re not half-bad for a first-year!”

“Uhm, thank you. But I still-” He’s interrupted by Bokuto yelling '_Hey hey hey! _’ as he skips over to them.

“Kuroo, Akaashi, do you guys know each other?” He asks with fidgeting curiosity.

“Nah, but it’s always nice to meet another vampire around here, right?”

Akaashi blanks. First, because of Kuroo’s quick and nonchalant response, his easy admission - and then because he hears Bokuto’s voice in his mind exclaiming _ ‘I’ve never met one before!’ _-

“Wait, you’re a vampire too!?” Bokuto shouts and Akaashi notices with horror that half the gym has turned towards them. Kuroo, for his part, just laughs in his face.

“What, you didn’t know?”

“You never said anything!!” Bokuto cries indignantly.

“I never go outside! You’ve even seen me drink blood!”

“What? I’ve never-” Then realization dawns on Bokuto and he looks to Akaashi with wide eyes. “Ooooh. Wow.” Akaashi understands immediately what Bokuto thinks of, and something like embarrassment blooms on his face. He sees Kuroo raise a curious eyebrow and their wordless exchange.

_ All this time, he really thought - _ that epiphany somehow fits in so well with Bokuto’s entire being that a chuckle escapes Akaashi. 

“I’ve told you, Bokuto-san, you’ve probably met more of us than you realize.”

“Yeah, because Bokuto is too dumb to realize these things.”

“Hey!”

It’s almost too easy to slip into a routine after that - practice match follows practice match, and while Akaashi is benched more often than not, he does his best to make the times when he is out, count - it’s even more satisfying when he finally gets in a successful rebound in a real match, against Kuroo to boot.

“You look so cute and innocent but you’re actually really mean, huh, Akaashi!” Kuroo tells him afterwards, all while painfully ruffling his hair. 

“Kuroo-san-”

Bokuto, for better or worse, comes to his rescue, by draping himself over Akaashi and nearly crushing him with his weight. 

“Hey, don’t bully Akaashi! He’s way too cool and smart for that!”

Kuroo grins down at Akaashi‘s face twisted in embarrassment, and Akaashi feels a dread that has nothing to do with their status this time.

“Cool and smart, huh? How so?”

“I mean, you’ve seen him play! He takes every match suuuper seriously and you never know what he’s thinking! And he taught me about rebounds, which are really fun and cool when you can pull them off! Oh, but he’s actually really nice and considerate, and-“

“_Bokuto-san_,” Akaashi all but whines, and tries to look down - he almost curses the fact that he ate last night, because he knows his face is blooming with an uncomfortable warmth.

Kuroo, the pain in the ass, just laughs and pats his shoulder. “Hey, you should be happy about the praise! But still, me and Kenma are gonna kick your asses at the Interhigh,” he says with a shrug back at the other first-year, who doesn’t even look up from his phone.

“I probably won’t even get to play during the tournament,” Kozume says.

“Neither will I,” Akaashi adds.

“C’mon, you guys should be more fired up!” Bokuto yells indignantly.

* * *

Akaashi didn’t play during the Interhigh preliminaries and as far as he knows, neither did Kenma. Then again, he couldn’t see Nekoma play very often - they were eliminated in the quarterfinals by Itachiyama, and Fukuroudani lost to them in the finals, second year in a row. Still, they made it to nationals. 

It’s not that Akaashi has never been there. His middle school did manage to become Tokyo’s second representative in the autumn of his third year, but for some reason the Interhigh championships still feel distinctly bigger and much more intimidating than what he remembers from back then. It doesn’t make sense at all - they’re not even playing on the first day, being a seeded team, and it’s not like Akaashi will get many chances to play, if at all - but somehow, the bigger stadium, the bigger players, the bigger camera crews, make his stomach uncomfortably queasy.

“Yo, Akaashi? You nervous?” Bokuto asks.

“Not really,” he… not quite lies. Does it count as nervousness when he knows that he technically has nothing to be nervous about?

“What, isn’t this your first nationals?”

“I did go once in middle school. Though we only made it to the second round…”

“Ha, that won’t happen here! We’re here to win, after all!”

“Like everyone else is here to lose,” Konoha quips behind them.

“Well, it’s inevitable that they’ll lose to us, right?” Bokuto says immediately, with the lightness of an obvious fact but with such focused certainty that it stuns Akaashi and Konoha into silence.

It’s easy to forget sometimes, with Bokuto’s more than occasional childishness, that he’s rightfully considered one of the strongest players in the country right now. He loves playing volleyball with a dedicated sincerity that Akaashi has never seen before, and even more than that, it seems like he was born to play the sport - and Bokuto knows that. It’s not out of arrogance that he’s so sure that they can win, but from a pure certainty of someone that’s fully aware of his skills.

Somehow, that’s enough to make Akaashi’s nerves unwind, like a previously inextricable knot suddenly coming loose, only for a determined calmness to wash over him.

“Of course-”

“Oh, look who’s talking big!” Sagara suddenly croons. “You sure you won’t just go all emo during a match again?”

“Hey-”

“Guys,” Kimura says insistently, and the two turn away from each other with a huff. Their captain sighs.

“Come on, let’s go watch the matches. We’ll go to the center court,” he continues, with a warning look towards Sagara. The setter clicks his tongue and mumbles a ‘_fine_’ and follows Kimura out, while Bokuto demonstratively turns his nose up and all but stomps off in the opposite direction. Akaashi and the second years follow him.

“God, he’s so annoying,” Konoha groans once they’re out of earshot of the third-years.

“More like he’s an asshole,” Komi says.

“Yeah, what’s his problem?” Bokuto exclaims with annoyance.

“Well, clearly it’s you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replies, which earns him a couple snorts, and a petulant whine. “But his hostility is uncalled for,” he continues.

“Oh well, let’s just go and watch the matches, yeah?” Sarukui sighs with an affirming grunt from Washio. 

Akaashi ends up getting left to deal with a brooding Bokuto all by himself, even as they’re supposed to watch two supposed dark horses, clad in black and white respectively, warm up for their game.

“That spiker is really good,” Akaashi comments with intent, and that at least gets Bokuto to stand up and look at the court below them.

“Oh, that’s Ojiro!”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, we met at the youth training camp last year! He’s half-American, can you believe that?” he says and Akaashi barely has time to process that apparently Bokuto was at _ that _youth training camp, when Bokuto looks back at the court in awe.

“Woah, that guy can jump real high!” he exclaims, just as Akaashi sees a fairly short white-haired player move away from the net, and there’s a familiar tug on his gut.

“Oh, he’s a vampire,” he murmurs.

“Wait, really? Gotta watch out for him then!”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I mean, you and Kuroo are both really awesome, so he must be too, right?”

“Ah.” Warmth blooms in Akaashi’s chest again. It seems to be happening more and more often as of late. “Well, maybe,” he manages to say.

Bokuto’s spirits lift significantly after that, especially after the match actually starts - it’s rare to have such an intense face-off already in the first round, moving into deuces in all three sets, with the incredibly skilled setter and what seems to be his twin barely securing them a win past Kamomedai’s formidable blockers.

“Man, that was great! I’m kinda sad we won’t get to play against the shorty.”

“But we will play against Inarizaki eventually,” Akaashi says with both fear and anticipation. It’d be a lie to say that he isn’t envious of their amazing first-year setter, but Bokuto’s infectious competitiveness makes him want to study that Miya Atsumu up close, and also to prove that Bokuto, his ace, is ultimately better than theirs-

He’s startled by his own thoughts almost as much as by Bokuto laughing and draping himself over him.

“Hell yeah, we will! And we’ll beat them!!”

“Of course,” Akaashi replies easily.

Bokuto is still in a great mood the next day, thanks to a relatively easy win against a smaller team. Akaashi wishes it had lasted into the third day too.

Bokuto had started off in good spirits too, but he plummeted pretty quickly in their first match against a team with a very solid defense, who seem to be set on specifically targeting Bokuto, too. His razor sharp crosses, his pride and joy, are also getting blocked more than usual, to the point where they lose the second set to Bokuto being completely shut out, too. Moreover…

“Can you stop being such a baby already?” he hears Sagara yell over the court between rallies.

“I’m trying, you know!” Bokuto shouts back.

“Well, clearly you’re not trying hard enough today!”

“Cut it out you two!” Kimura interrupts in a rare display of anger, which shows just how dire the situation is. Obviously, no team is completely untouched by their ace not doing well, but infighting makes it even worse - it frazzles everyone’s nerves, including those watching from the sidelines.

“Akaashi,” the coach suddenly says and breaks him out of his own worried thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Please get warmed up,” he says with a frown at the court, which doesn’t exactly instill confidence in Akaashi, but he nods anyway. 

They score one more point and then lose two right after, which makes Sagara move towards Bokuto and point an angry finger at his chest.

“Listen, if you don’t-”

The referee whistles to signify a player change. Akaashi almost shrinks down when Sagara’s surprised look turns into an outright glare once he realizes that the number Akaashi is holding is a 3, rather than a 7 - and then he scoffs and pushes past Bokuto towards Akaashi.

“Fine, let the leech and his blood bank play, see if I care!” 

Akaashi freezes, though he doesn’t miss the gasps and murmurs that ensue, from both sides of the net. All eyes are on him as Sagara rips the sign from his hand, and then he hears their coach’s angry voice.

“Sagara! Go cool off outside!”

The setter stomps off the court entirely, not even looking back once, and Akaashi sees Shirofuku send him a somewhat apologetic look, before following the third year with a frown.

“What the hell, how can he-” Bokuto starts and moves to follow him, and that’s what makes Akaashi finally move towards the court, stepping into Bokuto’s path.

“It’s fine, Bokuto-san.”

“No, it’s not! He can’t just-”

“Please concentrate on the match at hand.”

“But-”

Akaashi almost surprises himself when he slaps both of his hands to Bokuto’s cheeks and makes him look him dead in the eyes.

“If you want to vent your anger,” _ their _anger, Akaashi realizes with a start, but that’s not the point, “then do so by proving that you can win this, right here, right now, with or without him. Understood?”

Bokuto’s eyes widen, before setting into something serious, determined.

“Got it,” he nods.

“Good,” Akaashi replies, and hastily pulls away his hands.

“Alright then!” Bokuto reaffirms with another nod and a sudden grin. “We’ll win this, easy peasy, without that jerk! We’ve got you, after all!”

Akaashi sees a couple of the third years on court frown, but he can’t bring himself to care much when he smiles back. 

“We will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/emeraIdpalace) for the occasional sneak peak of the next chapter! And as always, all thoughts/likes/dislikes/other comments are very welcome in the, well, comments!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...I’ve always been quite lucky that most people at school didn’t care about me being a vampire. I can probably count the number of negative comments I’ve gotten on one hand,” he continues. “And letting those few moments linger and define how I feel doesn’t help anyone, least of all me. So it’s better to just move on and not think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, almost doubling the length of my fic with one chapter? it's more likely than you think!  
so yeah sorry for the delay, but the chapter is now up and i hope you enjoy it!!

They do win that match, somehow, but they lose the next one against Mujinazaka and their up-and-coming second-year ace. It was a good match overall, and Akaashi is not delusional enough to believe that he really could’ve changed the outcome much at all. Not that the loss isn’t upsetting - he did like the feeling of finally being able to stand on the court, to feel the tension of the match in his muscles, in his every toss, the exhilaration of the ace scoring thanks to his set-up, and he wishes he could’ve felt that for just a tiny bit longer -

But it wasn’t meant to be. He’s not their main setter anyway, not as used to playing with the rest of the team as he is with Bokuto, and both the coach and the captain tell him that he did well, all things considered. Kiryuu and Mujinazaka as a whole just had the slightest edge on them - something Bokuto accepts with surprising grace, too.

“I’ll definitely beat you next time!” he yells across the net, enthusiastically. Kiryuu startles and turns around to them hesitantly, and then curtly bows his head in acknowledgement. It’s good enough for Bokuto, judging by his grin.

Everything else falls into place then. Coach Yamiji gives them feedback on their performance, they have a hearty dinner and some people shed tears, though Akaashi isn’t one of them. He doesn’t get all that upset by losses, he knows it’s not the first or the last one he will experience, but even if he was upset, he wouldn’t have a right to cry - he wasn’t the one giving it his all in every match, so what does he know about the true frustration of defeat, despite all the hard work you put in?

What surprises him is that Bokuto doesn’t cry either. He bemoans their loss, yells that he could’ve hit certain balls harder, whines about how he should’ve come up with a killer secret technique after all, but he does it in his own comical, exaggerated way, that it makes everyone start to tease him, rather than wallow in their own misery. It feels almost deliberate, even.

“Huh? I mean, of course I’m sad too,” Bokuto says when he asks him later, “but it can’t be helped now, and we all did our best, right? Besides, there’s still the Spring High, and next year too! So it’s better to focus on how we can win future matches, rather than how we lost past ones.”

It’s such a mature response that Akaashi feels a little in awe - though it does fade a little when he finds Bokuto sniffing into his futon later. He claims that he just saw a very touching animal video, but he has that certain high edge to his voice that tells Akaashi that it’s probably not the whole story. He lets it slide, just this once.

They have two more days booked in their hotel, which most of them spend by watching the remaining matches in the morning, and going over them in the evening. Vaguely, Akaashi notes that Sagara misses from these discussions, and that he generally hasn’t seen the third-year much after their loss, when he’d joined the rest of them, frowning but quiet, and with a noticeably swollen cheek, followed by an unusually quiet Shirofuku. He doesn’t dwell on it though - there’s the Spring High to prepare for, after all. For most of them, anyway. 

About half of the third-years leave the club after that, mostly those that wouldn’t get to play in official matches anyway, but a few of the benchwarming members leave as well - and Sagara amongst them.

So the last thing Akaashi expects is to see the third-year come to his classroom during lunch one day, asking for him specifically. He seems to be uncharacteristically uncomfortable too, eyes shifting from side to side, looking at anything but Akaashi.

“Hey, look, I just wanted to apologize. For what I said in the tournament. That really wasn’t cool, and it was Bokuto being an ass anyway, so I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I don’t actually care about that stuff, y’know? But yeah,” he actually bows his head to Akaashi, and stays that way. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s…”  _ That’s fine _ , Akaashi almost reflexively says. But… it’s not fine. He feels the slightest anger well up inside him again, anger he didn’t have the time to dwell on back then, anger that’s been washed away by other priorities since - but still. If Sagara really didn’t care about him being a vampire, why was that the thing he went to in his own fit of anger? What right did he have to insult him, and Bokuto as well?

In hindsight, he’ll wish he'd have said all of that to Sagara’s face. But more so than irritated, Akaashi is uncomfortable - with the topic being brought up again at all, with a third-year bowing down to him, and most of all the curious looks it earns him from everyone else in the hallway.

“I accept your apology,” is what he says instead, still a deliberate hard edge to his voice.

Sagara’s head shoots up immediately.

“Wait, for real?”

“It’s not like you’ll probably ever talk to me again, so I might as well.”

The third-year’s eyes widen before he throws his head back in laughter.

“Ha! You’re right, honestly,” he says. “But I know I was being a dick, so no hard feelings, yeah?” He pats Akaashi’s arm once and turns to leave.

“Sagara-san, can I ask you a question?”

“Huh? Sure, shoot.”

“Why do you hate Bokuto-san so much?”

It should be almost funny, how quickly the third-year’s face contorts into something akin disgust.

“Ugh, he’s just so  _ annoying _ ,” he groans. “Like he thinks he’s the center of the universe or something! I know everyone just tolerates his moods because he’s the ‘ace’ or whatever, but I feel like he’s honestly more trouble than he’s worth. Who needs an ace that’s useless half the time? And he’s not even  _ trying _ to act all arrogant and dramatic, he just  _ is _ , and that somehow pisses me off even more.”

Akaashi can feel himself getting defensive, when Sagara suddenly looks at him.

“Honestly, I think that you liking him is weird, too.”

“What do you mean?” For some reason, his throat tightens.

“Like, at first I thought that you were just shy and didn’t know how to say ‘no’, but clearly that’s not the case,” Sagara says. “So why do you put up with him? Isn’t it exhausting to constantly have to feed his ego just so he plays like a normal fucking person?”

It’s not like Sagara doesn’t have a point, Akaashi realizes. Bokuto can certainly, for some people, be exhausting to be around. He’s volatile, and loud, and while Akaashi wouldn’t call him arrogant, he also knows that the line between arrogance and confidence is often a matter of perspective - and sometimes, people just don’t mix well together, that’s just a fact of life, too.

“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong, Sagara-san,” Akaashi replies. “But I personally don’t mind all that. I want the team to do well, and that means for Bokuto-san to do well, too. And,” he can’t help but add, “I think it’s fun to play with someone as spirited as that.”

Sagara looks at him suspiciously for a moment before sighing in defeat. 

“I guess you’re just one of those volleyball weirdos too.”

Akaashi vehemently disagrees, but Sagara continues, “Whatever, better you than me. Go make us win the Spring High, yeah?”

The third-year turns around to leave for good, and Akaashi can’t hold back a last remark.

“I’m sure Bokuto-san won’t disappoint you.”

He hears Sagara laugh dryly.

* * *

The school for the summer training camp rotates each year, and it’s Fukuroudani’s turn to have that fortune or misfortune, depending on who you ask. Akaashi personally prefers it this way, since it’s closer to his home and he doesn’t have to wake up too early to get on the bus, but that also means that he has to help in setting up everything for the arrival of the other schools.

“Ugh, do we  _ have _ to?” Bokuto whines while they’re carrying futons to the upstairs rooms. “Can’t everyone just bring their own stuff? Can’t we start practicing already?”

“The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can start practicing,” Akaashi reminds him, not for the first time.

“Ugh, fine! Then I’ll do everything as fast as possible!” Bokuto exclaims, and starts sprinting up with renewed vigour, running back down just as Akaashi reaches the top of the staircase himself.

“Hey, Bokuto, you can’t just throw them on the floor!” Konoha calls after him, to no avail.

Akaashi and Konoha hear a yell and the sound of things rolling down not a minute later. With exasperated, knowing smiles, they move downstairs as well.

Somehow, the team still manages to set everything up in time, though whether it’s despite or because of Bokuto being too bummed out to help, no one dares to ask.

Otherwise, Akaashi is starting to get used to the rhythm of training camps - wake up, eat breakfast, play in practice matches, eat lunch, practice some more. It’s more demanding than last time, since Akaashi plays much more often in the team’s starting lineup, but it also feels more satisfying, to have nothing else to do the whole day but play and watch his teammates improve through every match. The fact that they also win most of the time also feels pretty good, especially when Bokuto celebrates every win with his infectious passion, even if not everyone shares it.

“Oi, Kenma, you could’ve easily put more into your blocks in that last match, y’know.”

Kozume glares at Kuroo over the table during dinner.

“I wouldn’t have been able to stop it anyway.”

Bokuto laughs. “Yeah, don’t be so hard on him! My spikes are just too good to stop!”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see later! Kenma, you get some practice too!”

“I’ve been playing all day, I’m tired.”

“Hey, you said that you’d come along earlier,” Kuroo says in accusation.

“I said that I’ll come along, not that I’ll practice with you.”

“Huh? What’s the point of just watching us?” Bokuto asks.

Kozume suddenly looks down at his lap, hair hanging in front of his face.

“... I don’t want to go back to our room,” he says quietly.

“Huuuh, why?”

“Bokuto-san-” Akaashi starts, because he recognizes this, feels the discomfort of already having said too much as if it were his own, when Kuroo interrupts him with a groan.

“Ugh, our third-years like picking on the first-years too much,” he scoffs, though quietly, throwing a glance towards the other side of the cafeteria, where said third-years sit. “Especially Kenma, since he’s not afraid to talk back to them, sometimes.”

“Who cares about all this seniority stuff anyway?” Kozume says with surprising bitterness and a stab at his food.

“Oh, I get what you mean! We had a really shitty third-year too,” Bokuto says in a volume that’s starting to make Akaashi worry, “like, he obviously didn’t like me and always made fun of me, but not in a funny way, y’know? And at the Interhigh he even-” He stops himself in his rant, surprisingly, and throws an uncertain look at Akaashi.

“I mean, he, uh-”

“He called us ‘ _ the leech and his blood bank _ ’,” Akaashi finishes.

Kuroo and Kozume’s eyes both widen before hardening into near-identical scowls.

“What the fuck? That’s beyond shitty,” Kuroo says.

“I know, right!?” Bokuto replies. “Like, sure, he didn’t like me, whatever, but to go after Akaashi-”

“It’s fine, Bokuto-san.”

“ _ Akaashi _ , don’t just say it’s fine!”

“It’s really not,” Kozume says with a frown.

“He should’ve been kicked off the club for that,” Kuroo adds.

“He left after the Interhigh anyway, and he apologized for it, too, so I don’t want to dwell on it,” Akaashi hopes to bury the topic. He doesn’t like being the center of attention, especially not for something like that.

“Eh? He did?” Bokuto asks.

“Yeah, a couple weeks ago.”

“Still, that’s really fucking shitty,” Kuroo says, “I mean, me and Kenma heard that too, y’know? So you don’t have to just take it.”

“I know that,” Akaashi says, a little harsher than intended, so he bows his head immediately. “Sorry. But I’m fine now, really. There’s no point in focusing on one person making one negative comment when it could have been much worse.”

“Hm, you’re right! I mean, everyone else on the team is nice, and Akaashi is actually pretty strong too,” Bokuto says while throwing an arm around him. “And if anyone else wants to start shit, then I’m gonna beat them up, too!”

Kuroo laughs curtly and then offers his hand to Bokuto. “Alright, I’ll help with that.”

“Deal!” Bokuto replies as they high five.

“You probably shouldn’t fight anyone,” Kozume says, “since you both look like punks and people will think you started it.”

“Oi, Kenma!”

“Hey, I look really cool!”

“I think Kozume has a point,” Akaashi adds with fake thoughtfulness.

“ _ Akaashi! _ ”

Kuroo clicks his tongue. “Tch, no respect for elders over here!”

“You’re not even a full year older than me,” Kozume replies, and is promptly ignored while Bokuto pipes up.

“Honestly! Hey, maybe we should bully them too?”

“Good luck finding another setter for practice then,” Akaashi casually comments.

“Argh!” Bokuto exclaims and slowly turns his head towards Kozume, who immediately shoots him a deadly glare.

“No.”

“Aw, come on!”

Kuroo sighs dramatically. “Guess we can’t bully our poor first-years after all.” 

“Our ‘senpai’ are truly horrible,” Akaashi comments drily.

“Yeah,” Kozume echoes in the same tone of voice, but as their eyes meet, Akaashi can see that they share the same quiet flicker of amusement between them.

* * *

“Yo, Akaashi!” Kuroo says with barely a knock on the door to the classroom-turned-bedroom for their team, just before Akaashi is about to go to sleep.

“What is it?” 

Kuroo looks around the room, where most of the team is sitting and talking in little groups, though some have turned to look at the sudden intruder. Instead of saying anything, Kuroo just nods his head outside, and Akaashi stands up, follows him in slight confusion.

“So, uh,” Kuroo starts once he’s closed the door behind them, “do you know if there’s any open pharmacies nearby? I kinda messed up and forgot my blood at home.”

“Oh.” Akaashi hums in thought. “Well, there’s one by the train station, but I’m not sure if they hand out blood…”

Kuroo groans. “Well, I guess I can try…”

“I can give you some of mine, if you want.”

“Eh?” Kuroo’s surprise looks almost comical on his usually nonchalant face. “Are you sure? It’s not like I’ll starve if I don’t have any until tomorrow-”

“It’s alright, really. I always pack too much anyway.” 

“I mean, if you’re  _ really _ sure-” 

Akaashi promptly heads back inside the room and moves towards his travel bag, rummaging through it until he finds the smaller plastic bag with probably half a month’s worth of blood, for the mere half a week that this particular training camp lasts. He stops and wonders - would Kuroo need a bigger portion that him? He takes out two blood bags just to be safe, and avoids looking any of his teammates in the eyes as he heads back into the hallway.

“There you go,” Akaashi says.

“Hey, thanks, I really owe you!” Kuroo replies, and then promptly raises an eyebrow. “Ah, just one is fine.”

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t sure…” 

The second-year chuckles and claps him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Hey, wanna sit outside for a bit?”

“Uhm. Sure.”

And so head outside they do, Kuroo surprisingly directing them upstairs in Akaashi’s own school, saying how Bokuto mentioned that their rooftop is usually open, and responding in shock when Akaashi mentions that he never tried going up there.

“Man, what kinda high school student are you? Our rooftop is closed since they found some people smoking there, but me and Yaku tried lockpicking it once just to see if we could.”

“That’s probably against school rules.”

“Aw, come on, live a little!”

Bokuto was right, as it turns out, and the door to the rooftop really is wide open, which should be worrying, honestly - but Akaashi decides to _ live a little _ and sit down next to Kuroo against the wall overlooking the Tokyo skyline shining brightly in the distance, a nightly breeze flowing around them.

“Thank you for the meal,” Kuroo mumbles and promptly unscrews the lid to take a large gulp from the bag. He sighs in relief right after.

“So you were pretty hungry,” Akaashi notes, fingers playing with the second bag, squeezing the blood from one corner into another.

“Hm?” Kuroo hums around another mouthful, and then releases the bag with a  _ smack _ . “I mean, I have to eat pretty much every other day or else I start feeling like shit pretty fast.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And you?”

“About every four or five days.”

“ _ Man _ , I’m jealous! So you don’t feel hungry at all right now?”

Akaashi considers this question, still pushing at the liquid until it’s straining in one half of the plastic casing, before releasing the tension and holding the bag between his palms, smoothing it out again.

The wind is starting to feel cool on his exposed skin, even if he usually doesn’t feel it much, while at the same time wafting the warm smell of Kuroo’s open bag towards him - Akaashi feels the instinctive tug in his upper jaw, suppresses the urge, the desire to just _ go for it _ , even if he knows that it’ll taste good.

He looks at Kuroo then, still watching him curiously, waiting for a reply, fangs shamelessly extended over his lower lip. They look good on him, he realizes, whereas Akaashi has always felt somewhat clumsy about his own - like they never quite belong there. He feels a little something like jealousy, like longing.

“Maybe a little,” he finally replies, and unscrews the cap. The blood is about room temperature when he finally drinks it, but it still makes a different warmth spread all throughout him, new energy coursing through his veins, he feels his brain focus, while at the same time calm down from a discomfort he forgot that he even had - it’s how it always feels, though there’s a small pang of guilt, when he knows that he’s not supposed to feel the sting of hunger in his stomach for another two days at least. He still leans back fully against the wall in content and continues to savour the taste, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to wonder why Kuroo is smiling at him like that.

He knows that Kuroo has finished his portion, and Akaashi’s bag is almost empty as well, when the second-year pipes up again.

“Y’know, you really don’t have to pretend that things don’t bother you when they do.”

Akaashi opens his eyes again, though Kuroo’s are pointedly locked onto the skyline in the distance. 

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying, you’re allowed to get angry when people are being assholes to you.”

“I  _ know  _ that.”

Kuroo grins at his Akaashi’s frown. “See? Just like that.”

Akaashi’s sighs, wills his face into something more neutral again.

“It’s not like it doesn’t bother me, but I’d rather just leave it behind me and not think about it.”

“You know that the whole ‘ _ don’t give your bullies a reaction so they’ll get bored of you _ ’-thing doesn’t actually work, right?

“I’m not being ‘bullied’ anywhere.”

“ _ Now _ you just sound like you’re in denial.”

“I’m really not,” Akaashi insists. “...I’ve always been quite lucky that most people at school didn’t care about me being a vampire. I can probably count the number of negative comments I’ve gotten on one hand,” he continues. “And letting those few moments linger and define how I feel doesn’t help anyone, least of all me. So it’s better to just move on and not think about it.”

Kuroo hums thoughtfully. 

“I guess I see where you’re coming from, but at the same time, if you don’t bring attention to the fact that that behaviour is shitty, how will others know that it is?”

“I think everyone knows that bullying people is bad.”

“But they still do it anyway.”

“They are assholes then.”

Kuroo cackles. “ _ Fair _ . But also, if you don’t speak up about it, how will your friends know that it’s happening?”

Akaashi stays quiet at that.

“You know, when me and Kenma were in middle school, some kids in his class started picking on him, for hanging out with me,” Kuroo continues. “And he didn’t tell me about it for weeks, and I only found out because I caught them pushing him around behind the school.”

“He probably didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Damn right, but that’s a stupid thought. Of course I’m gonna be upset either way when I find out my best friend is being bullied, and that he’s been going through that without telling me.”

“...Didn’t it bother you? That it was because of you?”

“‘Course it did. I mean, I was still a kid and I kept thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be friends with Kenma at all, if that’s what’s gonna happen, but it was Kenma actually who snapped me out of it - because it didn’t  _ actually _ have anything to do with me, and everything to do with those guys being dicks.”

It feels a bit like a lightbulb goes off in Akaashi’s head, shocking him with its sudden clarity while he still looks at the other vampire. Kuroo starts rubbing the back of his head self-consciously.

“Well, what I’m trying to say is, whatever happens is not actually your fault. You don’t have to settle for being treated like shit just for existing.”

Akaashi nods, slowly. His hands still linger at the edges of his almost-empty bag.

“...What happened, when you found those bullies?”

“Oh?” Kuroo lets out a short laugh. “I started yelling at them and pretended to try to bite them, that spooked them off pretty quickly. It was honestly kinda hilarious, thinking back.” 

His eyes suddenly widen and he turns to Akaashi with a revelation. “I got it! Next time, when someone’s being an ass to you, just say that you’re gonna drink all their blood and hide their body in a dumpster, you have such a poker face that you could really pull it off!”

Akaashi actually chuckles at that. “Alright, I will try that,” he says, and takes the last sip of his blood.

He feels warm.

* * *

It’s natural, Akaashi tells himself, for the team not to synch up immediately, to not be at its peak after weeks, even months, after a couple of regular players leave, especially with one of the replacements being an inexperienced first-year like himself, playing in his first match against another team. It’s just a practice match, too, so there’s point in getting unnecessarily worked up.

“It’s natural,” he tells Bokuto during a time-out, “so try to not take it personally.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” the spiker replies dismissively, and Akaashi knows that he shouldn’t take that personally either - Bokuto is just upset that his signature crosses don’t seem to be getting through, and there’s not much Akaashi can do about it himself, even if he has been trying to make more dumps and direct his attention more towards the other attackers than he usually would.

It’s completely natural to lose everyone once in a while, but seeing Bokuto swear in frustration after they lose the second set to a block-out still makes Akaashi feel a distinct pang of sadness, of shame - because he knows he and Bokuto couldn’t have done anything differently, and it’s the most frustrating thing about it all.

Bokuto is switched out for Konoha in the third set entirely, which Akaashi knows is probably the most strategic option, but it does feel inherently  _ wrong _ in the way that Bokuto simply belongs on the court, that he doesn’t even sit on the bench but creeps under a table in his dejection, removing himself from the game entirely - and there’s nothing Akaashi can do about that, either.

“Bokuto-san, we should line up,” is all he manages to say afterwards, because he can’t quite bring himself to apologize - because he can tell that Bokuto blames himself more than anyone else.

The coach gives them a short feedback, not lingering too much on their mistakes because they’re all aware of them, and Bokuto slinks back under the table as soon as he’s done. Kimura claps Akaashi on the back curtly and tells him to take it easy, throwing a slightly amused, if equally exasperated look at Bokuto sulking, while the second-years each unsuccessfully try to drag Bokuto out from under the table. Washio inclines his head in question at him after a while, but Akaashi can only shrug and continue cleaning up the field. He doesn’t know if distance is what Bokuto needs right now, but he also doesn’t know what else to give him.

“Hey, Akaashi?” Bokuto mumbles when Akaashi walks past the table.

Akaashi stops and turns immediately. “Yes?”

“Practice spikes with me? Just for a little bit?”

‘ _ Just a little bit _ ’ might as well be code for ‘ _ A long, long time _ ’ at this point, but Akaashi could not refuse Bokuto’s determined look even if he wanted to. He nods, “Sure.”

It slowly dawns on Akaashi that this time it’s less of a practice and more of a venting session for Bokuto, spiking ball after ball, cross after cross, but with little aim or finesse that isn’t already part of Bokuto’s muscle memory, and there’s more outs than ins to show by the end of it.

“ _ Dammit! _ ” Bokuto exclaims as they round up all the balls in the gym for the second time, throwing one them straight at the floor, with enough force for it to bounce almost all the way up to the ceiling.

“What should I do!?”

Akaashi isn’t sure if the question was directed at him or not, but he replies anyway.

“Maybe… you shouldn’t focus so much on your crosses anymore.”

“Huh!? What do you mean!?” Bokuto cries indignantly. “But they’re my specialty! It’s what I’m best at, I can’t just-”

“Was it fun? Hitting all those crosses today?” Akaashi asks.

“...No. Because they were blocked or deflected all the time.”

“Was it fun hitting them just now then?”

Bokuto crouches down, hugging a volleyball to his chest, and mumbles, “...Not really.”

Akaashi dumps a couple ball into the cart before kneeling down next to Bokuto. “It’s not fun, doing the same thing over and over again, right?”

Bokuto looks up at him hesitantly. “... So I have to do something that’s fun again, rather than easy, like my crosses?”

“I think it might be worth a try,” Akaashi says, but in his heart, he knows that it’s the right path, and Bokuto, as it seems, knows that too.

“...Do you wanna practice some more?”

“Tomorrow,” Akaashi says firmly. “We both need to rest after the practice match.”

“Okay! Tomorrow then!”

Unfortunately, finding something new to do is much easier said than done. Bokuto is a person of habits and quickly falls into hitting his crosses whenever he isn’t actively thinking about his next move, and finding new techniques turns out to be a challenge as well. Coach Yamiji tells them to work on their fundamentals as a whole, try for subtler plays like dumps and feints and rebounds, and while they are effective, Bokuto is also a notorious show-off and Akaashi can tell that he’s still longing for the quick and easy effectiveness of a simply overpowering spike.

It doesn’t help that they barely even managed to reach the Spring High qualifiers this year - being beaten by Itachiyama in the semifinals was one thing, but it felt almost disgraceful how much they struggled with Nohebi in the 3rd place match, considering how they’ve been at least in the finals for the last couple of tournaments.  _ It’s natural _ , Akaashi repeats to himself over and over again, but the thought that the team would be better off if Sagara had stayed still lingers. 

Bokuto is also not fully out of his stump, and it seems like the only reason he’s still his more-or-less standard perky self is because he’s been invited to the National Youth Training Camp, again - which he chooses to take as a sign that he’s still as cool and awesome as ever. Akaashi doesn’t begrudge him at all.

“Aw, don’t miss me too much you guys! I promise I won’t forget about you!” Bokuto announces during the last practice before he’s set to leave for the camp.

“Finally we’ll have some peace and quiet,” Komi sighs, ignoring the spiker.

“Maybe we’ll just ask them to keep you permanently,” Sarukui wonders lightly.

“ _ Hey! _ ” Bokuto whines and turns to him. “Akaashi, they’re being mean to me!”

“Akaashi would sell you for one corn chip,” Konoha comments from the floor where he’s stretching, “since you bother him so much.”

Bokuto gasps, exaggerated shock on his face. “You wouldn’t! Right? Right!?”

Akaashi hums thoughtfully. “Maybe two corn chips,” he replies calmly, followed my Bokuto shouting and the other second-years laughing at him, though the ace soon joins in as well.

Akaashi said that, and yet, the next day when Bokuto is off training on the other side of Tokyo, it’s clear that something is missing - it’s not exactly quiet, it could never be with this many teenage boys playing volleyball in one gym, but it all blends into consistent white noise that feels almost monotone, with no piercing shouting and crying to break it up.

It also feels weird to walk home with most of the club members for the first time in a while, listening in on their conversations and personal lives and sharing details of his own that have long become superfluous to his interactions with Bokuto, because no, truly, he doesn’t feel the cold that much, thank you for the concern.

He feels strangely restless at the end of the day, too, does several exercises in his room after dinner and decides to stay behind tomorrow just to keep an ounce of his usual routine.

“Eh? You’re staying all by yourself?” Konoha asks him the next day. “Without Bokuto?”

Akaashi clutches the volleyball in his hands tighter, tries not to let his embarrassment show at that statement, like it’s a given that Bokuto and he only practice late when they’re together, which he knows isn’t  _ wrong _ \- but it still makes him feel on edge, for some reason.

“... I guess I got used to it,” he says helplessly.

“Poor you, being conditioned like that,” Sarukui says.

“Nah, Akaashi’s actually just a weirdo too!” Komi exclaims. “He’s just really good at hiding it,” he says with a smirk and an accusing pointer finger. Washio grunts and nods in agreement.

“Huh, now that you mention it…,” Sarukui wonders. “You  _ would _ have to be a little weird to keep up with Bokuto all the time.”

“Yeah, no normal person has that kind of patience!” Konoha says with a laugh and a clap on his back. Akaashi knows that they don’t mean it in any derogatory or accusing way, but something inside him still squirms uncomfortably.

“Please don’t put it like that,” he mumbles slowly.

“Huh?” Konoha looks up at him with curiosity and smiles, softer than before.

“Hey, it’s a compliment, you know? Like, don’t  _ ever _ tell Bokuto I said this, but him being so extra kinda makes him really cool, you know?”

“Yeah, he’s not a complete normie like you,” Komi teases, followed by a loud ‘ _ Hey! _ ’

“Honestly, you having that motivation to keep up with Bokuto makes you pretty cool too,” Sarukui adds quietly towards Akaashi.

The setter looks down, spins the ball in his hands once. “It’s not like I’m particularly motivated…”

“Then why do you do it?” Washio asks.

Akaashi thinks, gathers his thoughts, gives the ball another two spins.

“I suppose… I just don’t want to be left behind.”

An unnerving silence follows, and Akaashi doesn’t quite dare to look up yet.

“Akaashi!” Komi screeches in an eerily similar imitation of Bokuto. “You can’t just say something cool like that!” 

“‘_I_ _ t’s not like I’m particularly motivated _ ’, my ass!” Konoha exclaims around a laugh as he ruffles Akaashi’s hair forcefully. “Don’t act all aloof when you’re really just as bad as Bokuto!”

Akaashi squirms away, only to walk into Sarukui and Washio’s broad frames, the former continuing where Konoha left off, and even the latter giving him a few fond pats on the shoulder.

He absolutely doesn’t pout when he takes another two steps away from the second-years to frown at them demonstratively.

“I actually wanted to practice,” he says, not quite managing to hide the flustered edge in his voice. He hopes that the bashful heat he feels hasn’t quite reached his skin yet.

The others then exchange a wordless look between each other, and Akaashi wonders if this is how Bokuto feels, when he’s everyone else’s center of attention, the variable deciding the outcome of their decisions, when he’s being… coddled, by them. It’s uncomfortable in its novelty, and Akaashi doesn’t even want to be such an influence, such a disturbance in other people’s lives, but he could see how Bokuto might take a liking to it.

“Well, we can’t let the first-year one-up us, now can we?” Konoha finally sighs.

“We can play two-on-two,” Washio says.

“I’ll keep score first!”

“ _ Saru _ , not fair, I wanted to sit out first!” Komi whines.

“That’s really not necessary-”

Konoha gives him a firm clap on the back. “Come on now.”

“Practice is always better with more people, right?” Sarukui sing-songs, and Akaashi doesn’t really have a choice but to agree.

They play for another hour, which is less than Akaashi usually ends up doing with Bokuto, but it still gives him the comforting familiar ache in his bones afterwards, and it’s objectively more fun to actually play rather than just toss over and over again. He hopes that maybe, this too could become a habit when Bokuto comes back.

But he strategically decides not to mention that, even during the other times that they all practice together over the course of the next week.

“ _ Hey hey hey _ !!!” Bokuto yells throughout the gym on the first Monday morning that he’s back from the training camp. “Did you guys miss me!?”

There’s a couple teasing ‘ _ no _ ’s or ‘ _ Who’s that guy _ ?'s and Bokuto stomps over to announce that he didn’t miss Konoha and Komi  _ at all _ either, before his eyes fall on Akaashi. The setter barely has time to even feel the dread at that glint in Bokuto’s eyes before the second-year sprints over and scoops him up.

“ _ A-ka-a-shiii _ -”

“Bokuto-san-” Akaashi pushes futilely against the strong arms swinging him from side to side, before Bokuto drops him and grabs his shoulders instead.

“Straights!”

“...Straights?” Akaashi echoes with a blink.

“I wanna practice my straights! Like, there was this one time I saw Ushiwaka get his cross cut off, right, but it’s like he didn’t even care and just hit  _ such _ an awesome straight that even Komori couldn’t receive it, and I was like ‘Woah, I wanna do that too!’” Bokuto wildly gesticulates as he tells the tale, spiking and receiving motions included. “And it makes so much sense too! Because I don’t have to care about anyone cutting off my crosses if I can just hit a straight that’s just as awesome, and vice-versa!”

Akaashi blinks again, taking a moment to process the words before replying, “... That does make sense.”

“I know, right!?” Bokuto exclaims. “And I used ‘vice-versa’ correctly there, right!?”

“Uhm, yes.”

“Aaah, I’m so awesome!” He huffs triumphantly, for the whole gym to hear if they hadn’t been listening to him already, and turns back to Akaashi.

“So let’s practice just straights today, alright?”

Akaashi looks over to the other second-years listening in, and decides to put his plan into motion.

“That sounds like a great idea, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto preens. “Right?  _ Right _ ?”

Akaashi nods in acknowledgement. “It would be even better if you could practice it against other people as well, wouldn’t you agree?”

He sees both Bokuto and the eavesdropping Konoha incline their heads in question, though the latter with a frown - so Akaashi quickly continues, “You see, while you were absent, we would play in two-vs.-two matches after practice, and if you were to join us-”

Konoha bolts over to them with a shout pressing his hand over Akaashi’s mouth. “Hey, you can’t just rat us out like that-” He glances back at Bokuto and his face falls, because the ace already has that look on him - starry-eyed and hopeful, like an excited puppy expecting its next treat, to the point where it would be a crime against humanity to deny it that.

“Hell yeah, two-on-two’s sound really fun!”

“It would be three-on-three with you, Bokuto-san.”

“Even better! Aw, I can’t wait, watch out Komi! And Washio!” he calls to the others.

“Huh? Who said we’re gonna practice today?” the libero answers. “We only practiced with Akaashi so he wouldn’t get lonely without you, y’know?”

Akaashi freezes, though Bokuto doesn’t seem to care about the statement at all.

“C’mon,  _ please _ ? It’d be  _ so _ cool to practice against a good libero-”

“Ha! Flattery won’t get you anywhere!”

“It would be good practice for everyone,” Akaashi speaks up after gathering himself. He looks slightly off to the side. “And I also… enjoyed practicing with everyone else, this past week.”

He feels everyone’s surprised gazes on him, before Konoha slumps against him in defeat.

“What the hell, you can’t just  _ say _ that, now we  _ have _ to go.”

“He’s such a sly fox, acting all cute towards his senpai!” Komi pipes up and stands on his tiptoes to ruffle Akaashi’s hair. 

“That’s not-”

“Wouldn’t it be a sly owl instead?” Sarukui interrupts him.

“Oh, true!”

“But no one really calls owls sly?” Konoha comments. “They’re just kinda, quiet and smart.”

“Ha! Just like Akaashi, right?” Bokuto grins with something like pride, and Akaashi drops his gaze genuinely, this time.

“Well, can’t let the baby owl outdo us, right?” Sarukui says easily to everyone but Akaashi’s agreement and amusement, and he almost threatens to refuse practice - but he finds that he’s lying to himself, if he pretends that this isn’t fun, too.

* * *

It’s a particularly cold evening, on the last day of the year where they still have practice together, when Akaashi and Bokuto walk together to the train station, just the two of them, once again.

“Hey, Akaashi.”

“Yes?”

“Who do you think should be vice-captain next year?”

Akaashi stops. He suddenly realizes that he has given surprisingly little thought to their team configuration next year.

“I mean, the coach told us to decide soon, and obviously I’m gonna be captain-” Bokuto boasts, though Akaashi can’t say that it’s an unfounded thought - he doesn’t think there’s any second or first-year who had any doubt about Bokuto being their leader, their face, next year. 

“-But we’ve been talking about it and no one seems to agree on who it should be! So what do you think?”

Akaashi thinks for a moment. It is a good question, now that he thinks about it.

“...Konoha-san, maybe?”

“Hmm, that’s what I kinda thought too, but he doesn’t want to do it! He says that he’ll have to run after me all the time, and he’s already on the student council, so it’d be kind of a lot  _ and _ he doesn’t think the team would listen to him.”

“Isn’t making the team listen supposed to be the captain’s job?”

Bokuto sputters and whines, “Akaashi!”

Akaashi raises an innocent eyebrow. 

“A-Anyways, I’d be the ace first and foremost, and I’m gonna be super cool and hold interviews  _ all _ the time, so I won’t have time for that! So the vice-captain needs to be someone who’s more…” Bokuto wiggles his head in thought for a bit, and then stands ramrod straight, perfectly still, his face grim and serious, before relaxing again. “Y’know?”

“Washio-san then?”

“But he’s  _ too _ quiet, the first-years would be scared of him!”

“Sarukui-san…?”

“He constantly looks like he’s smiling, so no one would take him seriously.”

“And Komi-san isn’t allowed to be… That is quite difficult,” Akaashi admits. “But wouldn’t Konoha-san still be the best option then?” 

“Hmm, maybe, but he  _ is _ already in the student council, and it would suck to do even more organizational stuff for the volleyball club, right? Since I’m really bad at that-”

Bokuto suddenly stops, gasps and then clutches Akaashi by the shoulders.

“Oh my god, Akaashi! What if  _ you _ were vice-captain!”

“W-what?”

“You’d be perfect! You’re smart and serious, but not like,  _ scary _ , unless you want to be, and you’re our official setter already, so everyone would listen to you! And you could do all the boring paperwork too!!”

“I’m,” Akaashi’s thoughts run a million miles a minute, in the way that only Bokuto can destabilize him out of his orbit this much, like a massive star suddenly appearing and pulling a previously undisturbed system apart into every single individual atom. “I’m only a first-year,” he manages to stammer out.

“So? You’ll be a second-year soon, and no one said that it has to be a third-year!”

“But still…”

“And I’m sure you’d be a great captain in your third-year too!”

“Bokuto-san, that’s-” 

“Do you really not want to?”

Akaashi stops for a second. “I’m… not sure if I’d be the best person for it.”

“Why not? Didn’t you say that you were vice-captain in middle school too?” 

He doesn’t remember telling Bokuto about it, but it’s somehow touching that he actually remembered it, until now.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t have to do much-”

“And you won’t have to do much either!”

“...Didn’t you just say that I’d have to do all the boring paperwork?” Bokuto flinches away from Akaashi. “And run after you?” He takes a step back. “And give orders to the team, since you’ll be too busy giving interviews for  _ Volleyball Monthly _ ?” 

Akaashi feels a type of satisfaction at the look of nervous fear on Bokuto’s face, to the point where he can’t help the softening of his eyes and the twitch of his lips, but it’s enough for Bokuto to relax and turn back to comedic indignation again.

“ _ Akaashi!” _ He whines, stomps his feet with blown up cheeks. “That was mean!”

Akaashi can’t help but smile fully, then. “Am I wrong though?”

“...Well, no… But I still think you’ll be an awesome vice-captain, you know!”

He looks away, starts pulling at the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m… still not sure that’s a good idea.”

Bokuto walks up to him again, leans down to looks closely at his face with a studying frown.

“Akaashi…,” he says, thoughtfully, “Could it be… that you actually want to do it but are too shy to say so!?”

“What? No-”

“A ha!” Bokuto points a finger at him, “There! You looked away, so I’m right!”

“I looked away because you were pointing at my face,” Akaashi replies while gently pushing the arm down.

“But I’m still right, aren’t I?” Bokuto says with such a calm confidence that it leaves Akaashi speechless yet again. 

“...It’s not that I would mind,” he starts after a couple of moments, feels the heavy resistance build in his throat as his mind catches up to his mouth, but he has already started his sentence, so he has to finish it too, “But I… I don’t want to disappoint.”  _ You _ , he resists adding at the last moment.

“What, that’s it?” 

Akaashi looks up to find Bokuto watching him curiously, before he smiles lightheartedly and gives Akaashi a clap on the shoulder.

“Realx, ‘Kaashi, it’s not like it’s  _ that _ big of a deal!” He continues easily. “I mean, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“...I could disappoint the team.”

“Okay, yeah, I guess that wouldn’t feel nice, but then what would happen?”

“...The team would pick someone else?”

“Exactly!” Bokuto exclaims. “They’ll pick someone who’s better, and then you’ll just be a normal player again! And that’s not too bad, right?”

It sounds so banal, so obvious, when put like that. “I suppose it isn’t,” Akaashi finally admits. 

“See! It’s nothing to be scared about!” Bokuto says proudly. He’s right, of course - that overall, it’s not a big deal, that nothing would change all that drastically compared to before. Akaashi would get an additional title, have a few rare administrative things to do for the team, maybe watch over Bokuto’s shoulder everyone once in a while - but really, it’s nothing that will have that much of an impact on his life. 

“But, you now, I  _ really _ think that you’d be great for it!” Bokuto continues. “And I’m sure that the others wouldn’t mind either.”

Akaashi realizes that it’s not a big deal, that the decision to be or not to be probably won’t impact his life, or the team’s future in any significant way. So why then, does it feel so important, for Bokuto to want him as his right hand?

“I’ll think about it,” Akaashi replies slowly, but it’s enough to make Bokuto’s smile widen further.

“Yay! We’re gonna be such a great team!” He exclaims as he throws an arm around Akaashi’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say yes, Bokuto-san. Besides, didn’t we establish that I would be taking on most of your duties anyway?”

“Well, if you’re gonna be so scared about being a bad vice-captain, then I’ll just have to be an even better captain, so you have nothing to worry about!” 

Akaashi chuckles. “I guess I’ll be counting on you, Captain.”

Bokuto’s laughter bubbles out of him like a spring, and his arm around Akaashi tightens.

* * *

“Well, here we are,” Coach Yamiji starts his speech once they’re back at the gym after the Spring High finals. “It was a good year, for us as a team, and I hope for you as individuals as well.” 

Akaashi can’t disagree with that, but there will never not be something sad about the return from the last, truly last, tournament of the year, particularly when he watches their third-years look at the coach with equal measure of resignation at the inevitable, and the conflict of still wanting to do more, to play more, to turn back time and return to every single game and correct every single mistake, just to see what else they might have experienced, if things had been different.

“I know that you might think that we somehow got worse, since we only reached the quarterfinals this time - but I can assure you that that’s not the case. I have seen all of you improve tremendously since the Interhigh, and I know that those of you who stay can improve even more. As for the rest…”

He speaks to the third-years in particular then, and soon hands off the word to Kimura to give his final words of encouragement as captain. He also speaks of losses and victories, of how setbacks are only shameful if we let them be, of how they should learn from Inarizaki, from Itachiyama, study them, and learn to defeat them next time, along with everyone else who will be standing in their way - they’re words they’ve all heard before, and that they all know are true, but it still feels right to repeat them, here and now. They rest of the club bows and thanks Kimura, and the other third-years for everything.

“Well then, let’s not dwell on the past anymore - I hope the second-years have discussed the matter of the next captain and vice-captain?”

“Sure we have!” Bokuto jumps up, finally able to release all the energy he was nervously twitching with next to Akaashi. 

Kimura laughs. “I assume I can safely hand my duties over to you?” 

“You bet, Kimura-san! I won’t disappoint you!” Bokuto says with surprising sincerity. 

Coach Yamiji clears his throat, clipboard in hand. “And the vice-captain will be…?”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto announces with a hard push on Akaashi’s back, making him almost stumble. What a reliable impression that makes.

“...Eh?” The coach says in surprise, followed by a couple of murmurs through their rows, mostly from all the other first-years - Akaashi hasn’t mentioned anything himself, and he assumes the second-years haven’t either.

“Yep! We discussed this all for a  _ long _ time-” 

“And we all decided that Akaashi is the best guy for the job,” Konoha finishes for him.

“Hey, don’t interrupt your captain!” Bokuto whines.

“But Kimura-san didn’t say anything?” Everyone laughs, the tension eases, when Coach Yamiji clears his throat to gather everyone’s attention for the last time.

“Very well, the new captain will be Bokuto, with Akaashi serving as vice-captain. I’ll reserve giving out specific positions until the start of the new school year, but you all know who to turn to for any team-related matters,” he says, with perhaps a not-so-subtle look at Akaashi, rather than Bokuto, which a couple of people snicker at.

“Otherwise, please rest well everyone, and I wish you third-years all the best, no matter what you’re doing in the future. Don’t be strangers and visit us sometime, will you?”

And that is how Akaashi’s first-year in high school concludes and his second one starts - with surprising normalcy and a handful of new responsibilities, that Bokuto claims they share but Akaashi usually ends up doing all on his own anyway. 

The new first-years are eager, for the most part, and Akaashi already feels old when they speak to him formally and ask innocent questions about the school or the club, even if he knows that he was in the same shoes just a year ago, that he’s not even a full year older than most of them anyway. 

“Well, yeah that’s how it always feels,” Konoha replies when Akaashi mentions it to him, “I mean, they’re just  _ so _ cute.”

“Yeah, especially that kid that really latched onto you!” Komi laughs. “What’s his name, Anohana?” 

“Anahori,” Akaashi corrects, slowly. “...He seems nice, but he told me that he also wants to be starting setter by the time he’s a second-year, too.”

“Woah, that’s some fighting spirit!”

“Well, we can’t have that!” Bokuto suddenly exclaims, “You can’t lose to him, Akaashi!” he says, weirdly indignant on his behalf.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Akaashi calmly replies.

“Ooh, he’s fired up,” Konoha croons.

“...Not really.”

Komi grins and nods along, “ _ Totally _ is.”

Akaashi really isn’t, because he isn’t particularly worried about his position - Anahori has some great promise, but he still gets nervous when Bokuto joins the first-years in their match against the third-years and Akaashi, and very obviously tries to copy Akaashi’s dump in his very next play, only to be blocked by Washio right away. Akaashi recommends him to the coach as his backup setter anyway, because despite his nervousness and inexperience, he was able to keep up with Bokuto’s pace and demands within only a few plays.

Coach Yamiji informs him of when he’s planning to send out the  _ notice  _ this year again too, and Akaashi tries not to dwell on the absence of three first-years the next week, because anything can happen - it is far more likely that they lost interest, or decided that the club wasn’t for them - but those thoughts luckily get overshadowed when they receive their new jerseys after a couple of days.

“Akaashi-san, what number did you have last year?” Anahori asks in anticipation when he holds his No. 10 shirt for the first time.

“Hm? Thirteen.”

The first-year gasps, “So I’m already higher up than you were!?”

“Hey, the number you have doesn’t have anything to do with how good of a player you are, y’know?” Komi says, holding his number 11 that he decided to keep from last year.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Komi-san!”

“Hey hey hey! Everyone, let’s take a picture!” Bokuto suddenly yells through the gym, and when Akaashi turns he sees that the third-year has already changed into his new uniform proudly.

“Huh? You just wanna boast about being the captain now, don’t you?” Konoha asks.

“And about being the ace!” 

“You’re not even ashamed of it!” 

“ _ So _ ?” Bokuto replies defiantly. “I’m proud of it, and I’m really proud of this team, so I wanna take a picture to- to immoralize that!”

“You mean immortalize?” Akaashi asks.

“Yeah, that!” Bokuto looks around the team watching him with varying levels of confusion and ‘ _ What a pain in the ass _ ’ before he finally turns to his vice-captain with a sad pout. 

“Akaashi, come on, please?  _ Please _ ?” Akaashi takes a second to make a cost-benefit analysis, and relents with a sigh. 

“Alright, why not?”

“Yay!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the voice of reason here?” Konoha asks while Bokuto goes off to find the coach to take a picture of them.

“Bokuto-san wouldn’t let it go until we did it anyways,” he replies, and hesitates. “...And it might be a nice idea, too.”

“You spoil him too much,” Sarukui sighs, but dutifully starts changing into the uniform anyways, and the rest of the team follows suit.

Akaashi hears Bokuto come back, probably dragging Coach Yamiji along, as he pulls on his new jersey himself - he finds it fits a little tighter than he’s used to, probably because of his recent growth spurt. He’s still a little proud that he has passed the 180cm mark over the last year.

Bokuto looks at him with with wide eyes when Akaashi looks up at him again, though he quickly turns to address the rest of the team before Akaashi can really dissect it.

“A-anyways, let’s go guys!” 

They shuffle around a bit, arguing about whether to stand or sit, line up by their numbers or not, but in the end Bokuto just whines and says that he wants to be in the middle, dragging Akaashi and Washio with him, arm around their shoulders each. They somehow manage to huddle together with the coach’s directions, but even Akaashi starts to feel impatient and warm from the body contact on all sides.

“Okay, ready, set- Wait, Bokuto-kun, your hand is blocking Onaga-kun’s face,” Yamiji sighs, and Bokuto hastily drops his peace sign with a quick apology but instead of just lowering his hand he lowers the entire arm he has around Akaashi, resting it on Akaashi’s hip instead.

Akaashi freezes, the touch electrifying and numbing all at once, and for a moment he feels like his entire perception shuts down except for that single point of contact - before Bokuto lifts his hand once again, though Akaashi can feel the stillness of the rest of the arm at his back. He doesn’t know what to do but to lift his own elbow for a peace sign as well, only accidentally brushing his arm against Bokuto’s, feeling the ace freeze up as well, but the hand comes down on Akaashi’s side again, slightly higher than before. 

He can see Bokuto turn his head in his periphery, and resists the urge to do the same, just as Yamiji’s voice calls over again. “Okay boys, say Fukuroudani!”

“ _ Fukuroudani _ !” 

Bokuto disentangles himself from the group with a start, goes to clap the coach on the back and takes his phone back with an excited yell.

“Woah, we actually look pretty cool!”

“Hey, let us see too!”

Akaashi stays slightly behind the rest, pretending that he just doesn’t need to see the picture immediately, that he doesn’t need to calm his racing mind first.

Bokuto sends the picture in the team’s group chat later that evening, saying that they look like champions already and inviting a string of teasing comments about his appearance as a result. Akaashi reads the notifications dutifully but takes his time to download the picture and study it first.

They do look nice, all things considered. Some smiles are a little crooked, Komi had his eyes closed but it seems almost deliberate with his wide grin, and Bokuto takes center stage with his bright, happy smile, and the captain’s line under the ace’s number. He feels a certain sense of pride, being part of that, and goes to the settings to make it his home background, but as soon as he taps on it, the picture automatically zooms in to fill out the screen, placing Bokuto and Akaashi in the center of it - his gaze immediately drops to the hand that’s somewhat covered up by Sarukui standing next to him, but the fingers still curl around Akaashi’s waist visibly, bringing back the memory of their warmth to the forefront of his mind.

He hastily taps back to the settings, turns the picture by 90 degrees, and sets that as his background. In the silence of his own room, he becomes acutely aware of his heart rate - it’s usually slow to rise, even during the physical duress of a match. Akaashi doesn’t think he’s ever felt it beat this fast before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please do leave kudos and comments to let me know what you think and feel, and it'd be super cool to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/emeraIdpalace) since I'll be doing a little writing giveaway on it soon!!


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